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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098594">Darker Side of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress'>Romiress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Poly, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Dimension Travel, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Multiple, Slade Wilson is a Good Parent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:16:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>60,817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098594</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The barrier between worlds is gone, leaving Universe-A exposed for the first time. Beings that shouldn't exist begin to invade, and it becomes a desperate race against time to find a way to push them back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bruce Wayne &amp; Slade Wilson &amp; The Batfam, Established Bruce Wayne/Slade Wilson/Slade Wilson, Established Jason Todd/Joseph Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>More to Being a Father than Having a Kid [17]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bane / 0:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Super concerned by those tags up there? Check the bottom note for details.</p><p>Other than that... welcome to another round of MTBAF! This is intended as a big flashy 'finale', although definitely not the final part. After this you can expect it to be a bit more experimental.</p><p>And as always, feel free to join us over on <a href="https://discord.gg/kYvx6cd">discord</a> for update notifications, chapter discussion, fanart, and fanfic!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's nothing about the day that gives Bane any sort of warning. There's no sign in the sky, no odd omen, just the completely ordinary routine that he's fallen into since the war started. His men rally around a large table, a freshly printed map laid out. Bird outlines the status of their forces, and then Alvarez steps up, reporting what he's found as far as troop movements go. They have eyes in almost every branch of the government, but Bane hears from them in private, relaying what he's learned only after a day or two to confuse any possible spies.</p><p>Bane isn't stupid. He knows at least some of his men are working for the enemy, and he can only scarcely blame them for it. The Santa Priscan government, as it stands, has no qualms about threatening the loved ones of Bane's men to get them to confess, and all Bane can do is mitigate the possible consequences. Only his inner circle attends the briefings, men tied to him by either years of loyalty or a price paid in blood. The only ones who can look at the whole map with him are the ones he knows won't break if captured, and those are few and far between.</p><p>The first warning is nothing more than a chirp of the base's security system. It's low tech and simplistic, but it suits Bane's needs. If anyone passes the outer perimeter, it chirps quietly, alerting Bane to the coming and goings. Normally, it's easy enough to track—which patrol is coming in at that hour?—but right then is unusual.</p><p>No one should be coming in so early in the morning. Patrols leave closer to noon, and it's not long past eleven.</p><p>He turns to Bird, who offers a shrug. Zombie heads to the control panel, only for a second set of chirps to go off.</p><p>Whoever it is, they're coming in fast, and Bane barely has time to react before the screaming starts.</p><p>Even if Bane's trust is limited, his confidence in his men is not. Secrecy is of utmost importance, and there's no chance they would be screaming without a damn good reason. Bane's in the hallway before anyone else can react, trusting that one of the others—Trogg, maybe, or Cho—will destroy the map in his stead. The old fort they're using as a primary base twists and turns around, and the screams only seem to be escalating as Bane approaches. There are the sounds of gunfire, too, but it's hard to tell who's shooting, or at what.</p><p>The moment he reaches the entrance hall, Bane wonders if he shouldn't have stayed behind.</p><p>His men are engaging a <em>monster, </em>and they're dying in droves. Even as he watches, the thing in the doorway swings a fist and sends two flying into a wall, hitting it hard enough that Bane is sure, without hesitation, that they're dead. One of Bane's men unloads into the monster, but it doesn't do a damn thing, shrugging off the bullets as if isn't even noticing them.</p><p>Bane thinks as fast as he can and makes a single, stupid guess, raising his fingers to his lips and whistling as loud as he can. It works—the thing in the doorway turns its massive head, staring at him with beady eyes.</p><p>Others might not see it, but Bane doesn't doubt, even for a moment, what he's looking at. It's a man, but not on the ordinary <em>scale</em> of a man. It has to be almost twelve feet tall, misshapen and malformed. The shape it has is only vaguely human, one arm far too large, the other looking almost comically out of proportion. It's the head, though, that draws Bane's attention, slung forward as it is, staring towards him.</p><p>The face is his face, even if it's been twisted. Those are his eyes, even if the expression has been dulled. Around the thing's neck, a massive metal collar, a barrier that Bane knows, without question, is defending the tubes pumping Titan into it.</p><p>He's just as certain that if it turns, he'll be able to see more shielding on the back.</p><p>"More Titan?" French snaps, stopping short as the thing—the <em>other-Bane</em>—slowly turns towards where Bane stands. "Why is it so <em>big?"</em></p><p>Titan's been gone for years. Bruce saw to the end of it against Bane's wishes, and he's been thankful every day since for that fact. Titan was never meant to exist, a twisted drug that made his own Venom look tame, and seeing the thing in front of him now, he's even more certain that Bruce made the correct choice in destroying it.</p><p>"An overdose," he explains as quickly as he can. "The beast's been overloaded with Titan—it must have severe brain damage considering the size. We—"</p><p>The beast at the door lets out a bellowing roar that nearly pops Bane's eardrums, and then charges.</p><p>The downside of being big and strong is that it always comes at the expense of agility. One swing of the beast's arm is enough to turn the front of the stone wall it hits to powder, but it misses Bane by a mile as he dips out of the way. Its attention is focused solely on him, and he knows he's going to have to take advantage of that.</p><p>"Someone must be controlling it. It should not have the brain power to function on its own. Find whoever is behind it and deal with them."</p><p>He doesn't even direct it at anyone, but Bird and Alvarez move immediately, heading for the door as the others fall back to organize the defense.</p><p>Bane faces the beast alone, and he knows he's going to have to be smart about it.</p><p>Everything he knows is an elaboration of what he's experienced. He doesn't really <em>know</em> that the thing coming after him is all but brain-dead, but he can remember (or more accurately, he's been told, because he barely remembers a thing of the time he was addicted to the substance) how much he had to struggle to keep up with even simple concepts. Considering the beast's size, it must have even <em>more</em> venom in its system, and he can't imagine that allows for much higher brain function.</p><p>"Coward!" He taunts, even though it makes no sense, and the reaction is immediate. He's forced to retreat down the hall, relying on his memory of the layout to keep from turning his back. The first order of business is baiting the thing to a narrower area, limiting it's movement, and after that?</p><p>Well, he'll have to get creative.</p><p>It's not just as simple as staying out of range. The beast is so big and so stupid that even blows that miss are dangerous. The second time Bane ducks out of the way, the creature's fist puts a hole in the wall, showering Bane with bits of stone and dust. When it hauls its fist back out, more pieces of stone come up with it, and Bane becomes deeply aware that even if he doesn't think it can catch him, that won't stop it from bringing the whole fort down on his head.</p><p>He has to make a point of dodging in such a way that nothing connects with <em>anything, </em>which leads to more close calls then he dares admit. He doesn't have time to stop and think about the implications a version of him being sent into the base to kill him. He doesn't have time to work out what it all <em>means.</em> All he can do is focus on not dying, taking another route as his plans change. He can't risk luring it down to the cellar where an errant swing could collapse the fort on them both: instead, he has to do something much, much riskier.</p><p>He lets the beast—always the beast, because he can't let himself think about it as anything other than an <em>it, </em>either—chase him to the far end of the fort, and then he engages in the most dangerous gamble of all: he turns and runs.</p><p>His instincts scream at him for having his back to it. It's the worst case scenario, the worst possible tactical choice. Only a fool would turn his back on something so strong, and yet that's his best choice without a doubt. He <em>runs,</em> going as fast as he can down the straight hallway that holds the cell block that once held prisoners in the earliest days of Santa Prisca's occupation. He runs until his legs burn, the beast behind him letting out another deafening bellow, and even without looking he can tell that it's taken up the chase. Every footfall is like a landslide just from the sheer amount of force behind it, and that's the only indication Bane can get as to how close it is. He has to push himself to his absolute limit just to stay ahead of it.</p><p>And then he runs out of hallway.</p><p>The hall dead-ends abruptly. Once upon a time, the dead end was once a break room for the guards, but almost every sign of that's been emptied out, the hall abandoned and ignored by Bane and his men.</p><p>And Bane makes use of the very reason its been left empty.</p><p>He throws himself to the side into the small alcove that once held the guards least favorite prisoner. The bars have been wrenched away, leaving nothing but a small dent in the stone, only just large enough for Bane. His shoulder hits the wall, popping it out of its socket from the force, but by then his plan's already succeeded.</p><p>The alcove is so last minute and so impossible to see that the beast behind him doesn't see it until its too late. Instead, simple-minded as it is, it simply continues to follow Bane until it can't follow him any longer. When Bane darts to the side, it isn't fast enough as it tries to turn, leading to it slamming shoulder first into the wall.</p><p>The weak outer wall of the fort.</p><p>The creature—the <em>other-Bane</em>—goes through the wall like it's made of paper.</p><p>Bane's fear is that a chunk of the hall will collapse with the wall, but it holds. He stays perfect still where he is, pressed uncomfortably into the glorified dent that was once a prison cell, and waits until he hears the clatter of stone on stone followed by the much louder and more unpleasant sound of a body hitting stone.</p><p>Only then does he allow himself to step out, peering through the hole. A hundred feet down, the remains of the fallen Bane lay among the rocks, still and unmoving.</p><p>It's an undignified end for an undignified man, but Bane allows himself a few moments of contemplation on what almost was.</p><p>It's hard not to think of the wretched thing on the rocks below as a glorified <em>what if.</em></p><p>He prefers not to think about it, though, and he pushes the thought away before turning back into the base and retracing his steps.</p><p>His men appear to be readying to launch a rescue mission—they've armed themselves with the heaviest duty equipment they can find, with Trogg at the head—when he arrives in the entranceway.</p><p>"Tell me you've found the ones behind this."</p><p>"Bird has them," Trogg confirms. "You aren't in a hurry. You handled the guest?"</p><p>"He's on the rocks down below. The sharks will eat well, but the damage he's done to the fort is intense." The front door's been just short of obliterated, and Bane doubts they'll be able to repair it in a reasonable amount of time. The whole fort's become nearly indefensible in less than a half hour.</p><p>He just has to hope the Santa Priscan government isn't behind it, because if they are, they'll be marching their forces up towards the fort even as they speak.</p><p>"Get Bird to bring them to me."</p><p>Bane doesn't explain where he's going as he heads back into the fort, heading for the communications room.</p><p>He's just had to fight—and kill—another version of himself, and he knows a group of people who would be very interested in knowing that fact.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well aware that some people are going to panic over the major character death tag, so to clarify:</p><p>Minor Character Death: A lot of (mostly newly introduced) minor characters are going to get killed off. Fair warning on that.</p><p>Major Character Death: At the current moment, I have one named character who I have planned to die. They are not a member of the immediate family, and are not (and have not been) a POV character at any point in the series. If you're the kind of person who gets anxious and really wants to know, you can send me a message on the side and I'll let you know, because I know a <i>lot</i> of people were really anxious the last time I used this tag.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tara / 0:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as Tara's concerned, her work is done. She's flown from Markovia to Egypt, she's dug up a tomb, and... well, that's it. She's done what Brion asked her to. Her presence in Egypt was solely as a courtesy, a quick and easy task she could get out of the way to further cement her usefulness to Brion.</p><p>And, alright, maybe she doesn't <em>need</em> to prove that she can be useful to Brion. He's made it pretty clear that she can stay in Markovia for however long she wants, and that she doesn't <em>have</em> to do anything.</p><p>But she knows better than to trust what people <em>say</em> they'll do. The only thing that counts is <em>action.</em></p><p>And with her <em>action</em> over, she's ready to go somewhere that isn't getting sand in her eyes at every possible turn. It's hot, sandy, and Tara is <em>done</em> with Egypt as a whole.</p><p>The rest of the team hasn't gotten the memo, though. They've settled in around the table in the tent, swapping stories and catching up while the nerds go digging through the sand. None of them seem to mind the conditions, except for the Atlantean who's chugging water like they're about to run out.</p><p>Maybe she should just leave. It's not like any of them would even notice, only when she stands up, almost every person in the tent turns to look at her, and she scowls right back at them.</p><p>"What? I'm going to get some air."</p><p>"Better to stay under the tent," Damian says, doing a poor job of making himself not sound irritated at her. "The sun will dehydrate you."</p><p>She rolls her eyes again, waving her hand. With the gesture, the sand lifts from the ground, forming a shield to protect her from the sun.</p><p>"See? Don't—"</p><p>She pauses, distracted by the sound of people coming. Lots of footsteps, and <em>hopefully </em>that means they're done for the afternoon. They can go back to the hotel, and she can split off and fly home. Done.</p><p>Or that's the plan right up until someone <em>hovers into the tent.</em></p><p>Tara, quite simply, has no idea who or what she's looking at. They're hovering just off the ground, dressed predominantly in loose, flowing blue fabric. He's got a golden cape around his shoulders (she's assuming they're a <em>he,</em> but she honestly can't tell) pinned up with a gold broach, and the gold of <em>that</em> is matched by some sort of absurd full-face helmet with a goddamned <em>mohawk</em> on the top.</p><p>Which, of course, is also gold.</p><p>"What's with the shoes?" Thad asks, making a face at the yellow and white sneakers that complete the ensemble.</p><p>"Can we focus on the fact that he's floating?" Jackson protests. "That's Khalid, right?"</p><p>"It's me." The voice certainly matches Khalid, and the rest of the team gathers around him like the fact that he's hovering (and ever so faintly <em>glowing) </em>is perfectly normal and not possibly a sign that he's been possessed or replaced or something. "I have a lot to tell you, but we got what we came here for."</p><p>"Is that... not the helmet you brought?" Damian asks, squinting up at the helmet, and Tara derails.</p><p>"Does it matter?" She asks immediately. "Tell us what you need to tell us, and lets get going. If we're done with the dig, then we can go home, so just get it over with."</p><p>Khalid—or whatever creepy thing is pretending to be him—turns to her for a moment, and then back to the group.</p><p>"There was a wall between this world and the others, and that wall was protecting us. It's gone now, failed, and things that were <em>outside</em> are now trying to come in. They'll be coming soon."</p><p>"Who's <em>they?" </em>Damian asks, sounding alarmed. "Why does this sound bad?"</p><p>"Because it is," Khalid confirms. "There's more to it, but that's the most relevant detail. There was a barrier protecting us, but it's gone now. Some... outside force is trying to get in. Nabu implied that it was going to be dangerous, and that we'd be up against something really, really strong."</p><p>"Okay, that's <em>really</em> sounding bad," Tanya says, straightening up. "I need to get back to my lab to monitor this, obviously. They're coming from another dimension?"</p><p>"That was implied. Nabu was light on details, and I got the impression he didn't actually know the source, just that something was trying to bypass his barrier."</p><p>"Am I supposed to know who Nabu is?" Tara asks. A part of her—a <em>big </em>part of her—is of the opinion that none of this is hers to deal with. At the same time, though, he seems to be implying a problem big enough that even Markovia would be in trouble, and the last thing Tara wants is her meal ticket getting torn in half.</p><p>"Spirit of the helmet," Thad clarifies for her. "So we've got a poorly defined <em>bad thing</em> which is going to happen..."</p><p>Thad keeps talking, but Tara's no longer listening. She can <em>feel </em>something, and what the kid is blabbing about doesn't matter as much as that. It's not something she's experienced before, and even as the feeling intensifies, she struggles to place it.</p><p>Even worse, she's not the only one noticing it. Thad goes silent, and everyone else begins to look around, trying to place the now slightly audible rumbling. Thad vanishes, zipping away at top speed, and he's back in a moment, speaking so fast it's barely intelligible.</p><p>"Someone'sridingamountain!"</p><p>As nearly incomprehensible as he is, it's enough. Tara <em>understands, </em>darting out of the tent and lifting the earth beneath her feat, raising herself out of the valley to get a better view. Beside her, the other Titans follow, those who can fly lifting off to try and comprehend the distant rumbling.</p><p>Saying that they're riding a mountain isn't accurate, but it's not <em>inaccurate, </em>either. There's a massive cloud of dust being thrown up behind them, and even at a distance, it's hard to ignore what she's looking at: someone just like her, riding a pillar of stone the way she <em>just</em> did. They're clearing the ground between them rapidly, and Tara makes a split second decision to get away from the valley.</p><p>She's intending to get clear, but the new arrival turns, following her as she heads into the desert, and Tara's pretty sure the new arrival is going faster than she is.</p><p>Not a good sign.</p><p>"Why does it seem like they're after you?" Jon calls, picking up speed to keep pace with Tara.</p><p>"Because they are, apparently!"</p><p>She should have known things were too good to be true. Maybe not Brion himself, but <em>someone's</em> taken issue with her. Someone's come to put her out of her misery, and the fact that they're apparently planning to do it with a duplicate of her own powers...</p><p>Well, she's sure as hell not going to make it easy for them.</p><p>"Moving to engage!" Jon calls, apparently not to her, and veers off towards the new arrival. He doesn't even get close, a pillar of stone bursting from the earth and knocking him aside. Tara has no idea what his capabilities are, but she hates the idea of him fighting anyway.</p><p>This is <em>her</em> fight.</p><p>She turns, angling towards her pursuer, and starts to do what she does best. Drawing stone around herself as a shield isn't going to work against someone who can also control the earth, so she instead draws on every technique she's learned from fighting Brion. She draws stone up from beneath the sand, stopping abruptly as she forms defensive pillars around her, and then waits for the bastard to fall into her trap.</p><p>But the closer they get, the more Tara can see, and the more alarming it becomes.</p><p>The person coming at her looks <em>just like her.</em> It's the same blond hair, the same ever so slightly off grin Tara sees in the mirror whenever she tries to practice. They're wearing a brown costume that Tara wouldn't be caught dead in, a cape flapping in the wind behind her.</p><p>She stops before entering Tara's trap, standing on a pillar fifteen feet above the ground. Tara matches her on instinct, staring her down as the Titans fall into position behind Tara. She can hear them whispering. She knows what they must think.</p><p>"You can tell your little friends to stay out of it," the other Tara says, her voice leaving no room for doubt as to her identity. "Everyone else is going to be stupid and just bulldoze their way to their target, but I know how to win this... You should tell them that once you're dead, that they should team up with me, and we'll get rid of the rest of them together."</p><p>Tara has no idea what the fake Tara is talking about, but it doesn't matter: she's never let that stop her in the past, and she sure as hell isn't going to let that stop her now.</p><p>"Out of respect, I'll make it fast!" She yells, and then wrenches the earth beneath the other Tara's feet open in one mighty surge of power.</p><p>The earth cracks open with a noise that Tara will never not find satisfying, and the impostor drops into the earth. Beside her, Jon hovers close, and Soranik rises up with the rest of the team on a platform of green light. Khalid brings up the rear, still floating but otherwise keeping his distance.</p><p>It looks ridiculous, considering they're all in street clothes. The sleeve of Jon's shirt is torn off, ripped by the force of the pillar, but otherwise he looks unharmed.</p><p>"That was you, wasn't it?" Jon asks, voice quiet. He looks alarmed, glancing between Tara and the rent in the earth. "That was your clone!"</p><p>"Fuck clones," she announces, which earns her a <em>very</em> scandalized look from most of the team. Logic dictates one of <em>them</em> is a clone, only she has no idea which one and doesn't care to learn.</p><p>"I don't believe they were a clone," Khalid calls. "I think—"</p><p>Tara doesn't get to find out what Khalid thinks. Just as she cracked the earth open, dragging the other Tara down, the earth beneath <em>her</em> cracks open, leading her tumbling down into the earth below. She's fast enough to make a protective barrier, keeping her from being crushed as the earth snaps shut behind her, but she's not fast enough to stop herself from being cut off from the team above.</p><p>Which means she's alone with someone who is much, <em>much</em> stronger than her, deep beneath the earth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Slade / 0:20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even if he's at the wrong end of the house, Slade can hear the frantic knocking just the same. The bedrooms—the places people actually <em>live</em>—are well sound-proofed, but the rest of the house is open enough that sound carriers, and someone rapping furiously at the back door is enough to ring an alarm bell in Slade's head.</p><p>He cheats, hopping over the second floor balcony and letting gravity carry him down, but Bruce is already getting it, reaching the back door before Slade can.</p><p>It's one of Clark's boys—Yen, Slade thinks, but it's hard to tell with Bruce blocking most of the door—and he looks downright panicked.</p><p>"Jon just called dad and said they got attacked by Tara's clone and the real Tara got kidnapped or something so Dad's flying out now but he wants you to look into things," Yen says, picking up speed the more he talks until it's nearly unintelligible.</p><p>Except Slade's been around Thad, and the average person's version of <em>talking fast</em> is nothing.</p><p>"Got it," Slade calls as Bruce tries to catch up with what he was just said. "Evil clone, Clark's moving to intercept. Bruce, do you want to—"</p><p>He's going to suggest Bruce contact Brion through whatever channels possible, but the distant sound of a communicator signal throws him off. Just from the tone, he knows that Bane's trying to contact them, only that... is unusual. Very unusual. Bane contacts them like clockwork, which is impressive considering he's almost constantly on the move.</p><p>Something bad is happening.</p><p>"Bruce, check the League comms and see what's going on," Slade says. Bruce doesn't have the benefit of being able to hear Bane's signal, which means Slade has to take control of the situation. "Bane's calling. Yen, go find Will—he should be getting groceries. Probably already on the way home."</p><p>It's a credit to Clark's parenting that in a situation which Slade's instincts are telling him is <em>very</em> serious, Yen offers no argument, immediately moving to comply as Slade descends into the basement.</p><p>The line keeps beeping, and ever beep—the fact that Bane isn't hanging up or just leaving a message or something—makes him even more nervous. He scoops the communicator up, slipping it into his ear and leaning over the desk, but not actually sitting down.</p><p>Never know when you have to make a run for it, after all.</p><p>"It's Slade."</p><p>"I will keep my message brief," Bane replies without any sort of preamble. "I was attacked by what I believe was another version of myself, one who had lost his mind to venom. My men managed to capture two men who were directing him, but one killed the other when they let their guard down. They've given us no useful information yet."</p><p>Bane was attacked by <em>another Bane?</em></p><p>"Did you handle it?" First things first, and making sure everything isn't blowing up on Santa Prisca is most important.</p><p>"Dead on the rocks below our base," Bane confirms. "You do not seem particularly surprised."</p><p>"Someone else we know just reported getting jumped by their counterpart. Doesn't seem like a coincidence, but we're just looking into it now."</p><p>"No, it doesn't," Bane agrees. "I believe I should let you handle that. I will inform you if we manage to learn anything from our remaining guest."</p><p>"We'll try and keep you in the loop," Slade promises, eager to look into whatever the flying fuck is going on.</p><p>"If you could," Bane says with more patience than Slade has right then, "I would appreciate if you would check in with Miss Prince and ensure my family is alright."</p><p>"Of course. We'll check in."</p><p>Slade doesn't bother waiting for everyone to get together. Instead, the moment he's back on the ground floor he simply bellows for all to hear.</p><p>"Bane got jumped by an evil version of himself!"</p><p><em>"What?!"</em> Jason yells, leaning over the top banister. "What the fuck?"</p><p>"Oh dear," Alfred says from somewhere (the second floor?), and in short order the whole family's piling out of the woodwork. Joey's at work, but otherwise <em>almost</em> everyone is there.</p><p>Except the boys, which feels like a knife to the gut. They should be home where it's safe, not off in <em>fucking Egypt. </em>He knew it was a bad idea to let them go.</p><p>"Are you going to explain?" Thomas asks as Bruce leans out of his office, flagging them over.</p><p>"Another Tara Markov attacked the Titans in Egypt," he explains. "Something's going on."</p><p>"Alternate universe selves," Slade says. He's not an idiot. He can put two and two together. They all can. <em>One</em> evil Tara Markov might be a clone, but a Tara Markov <em>and</em> a Bane, both appearing at the same time?</p><p>"I'm trying to get the Department of Dimensional Monitoring on the line, only Tanya's our usual contact and she's in Egypt. It's taking longer than I'd like."</p><p>"Did you check in with the League?"</p><p>In the distance, the phone rings. Not any one person's phone, but the <em>house</em> phone, and all as one they turn, staring towards the kitchen.</p><p>"Fuck," Slade curses. "What now?"</p><p>He doesn't even <em>want</em> to answer it. Whatever it is, it's going to be bad. Maybe if he just ignores it, he won't have to deal with it right away and he can focus on getting ahold of everyone else. Is it a coincidence that both Tara and Bane are (or at least <em>were in another reality)</em> villains? It sure as fuck doesn't <em>feel</em> like it, but two data points is too small.</p><p>Slade has a feeling he's about to get a third. He slides into the kitchen, scooping up the phone, and answers with all the self control he can muster.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>"Oh good."</p><p>No. Not good. The voice is <em>his goddamn voice,</em> and he knows for absolutely sure that it isn't Will he's talking to. The voice is ever so slightly lower, more like what he sounds like in recordings.</p><p>Not that most people could tell the difference.</p><p>"Fuck off with this shit," Slade says, anger flaring. He doesn't think he's sworn so much in <em>months, </em>but in less than ten minutes he's already been pushed to his limit. "Just issue your threat or whatever."</p><p>Slade's not standing idle. He heads to the phone's base station, just outside the kitchen, and checks the caller ID.</p><p>
  <em>W. Wintergreen.</em>
</p><p>Slade sees red.</p><p>"If you've laid one fucking hand on him—"</p><p>"Who, the old man? Consider it a freebie. I've got enough respect for him to not make him stick around and watch when I gut you."</p><p>A freebie. He's implying he fucking—</p><p>Seeing red isn't a strong enough term for it. It takes all of Slade's self control to not punch a hole in the kitchen wall. Bruce slides up behind him, touching his arm, and Slade simply jerks away. He doesn't want comforting. He wants answers.</p><p>But the thing he <em>wants</em> to know, he doesn't dare ask. The other Slade hasn't mentioned Cass at all, and Slade isn't sure if he wants to risk drawing attention to her. Maybe she's out. Maybe she got away.</p><p>"Quiet. Means you're pissed," the other Slade says casually. "Because of I killed Billy? Or because of what I did to his little girl?"</p><p>One blink to the next, Slade passes through anger and into absolute, perfect calm. His brain won't let him handle that level of anger, so he simply stops being angry, turning to Jason, waiting in the door, and signing quickly.</p><p>
  <em>Get a superboy.</em>
</p><p>Which one doesn't matter. Slade just needs one.</p><p>"I'm coming for you, Slade. Sure hope you haven't let yourself get soft."</p><p>The other Slade hangs up, and Slade drops the phone back on the counter, turning to Bruce.</p><p>"I'm going after him."</p><p>"You aren't going after anyone," Bruce says, alarmed. "If he's hurt Wintergreen or Cassandra—"</p><p>"Hasn't killed her," Slade says. "If he'd killed her, he'd have said it. He might have her, or she might be on the run. One of Clark's kids can drop me off and I'll find them—"</p><p>"Slade, whatever is happening, it's bigger than just one person." Bruce grabs his forearms, physically holding him in place as he stares up at him. "We need to find Cassandra, but you can't go chasing after revenge for Billy. Keeping everyone safe has to come first."</p><p>Slade grits his teeth so hard they nearly crack, but Bruce is—as always—right.</p><p>He can't leave the house unguarded. Not with the twins.</p><p>The door opens, and Will calls out immediately.</p><p>"Here!"</p><p>"Yen still there?" Bruce calls. He obviously isn't happy with using Clark's sons as errand boys, but there's no doubt that they'll be the fastest. Yen follows Will in, looking equal parts worried and excited, although the excitement gives way almost immediately when he sees how everyone else looks.</p><p>"Yen, you remember Cassandra? Wintergreen's girl?"</p><p>Yen nods after a moment's hesitation.</p><p>"Black hair? Doesn't talk much?"</p><p>"There's a good chance she's left Wintergreen's house and is on her way here. I just need you to fly the fastest route between here and there and see if you can find her. But I want you to stay <em>up.</em> Do not engage <em>anyone. </em>Do not go investigate the house. Sky level only, or your dad is going to ground you until you're forty, alright?"</p><p>Bruce isn't leaving any margin for error in his instructions, and Slade turns his attention to catching Will up to speed on what little they know before sending him off to check the house for intruders. The moment Yen's gone, Bruce is heading back to his office, trying to figure out what's going on.</p><p>It's only the angle of his shoulders that tells Slade that Bruce is just as angry as he is. Slade hovers over his shoulder as Bruce sits on the phone, trying to get ahold of the department, and less than a minute in, Slade's patience wears out. He grabs his own phone, giving it only a moment of thought, and then calls the worst person possible.</p><p>"I should have known I'd hear from you again," Waller answers. "You are aware I'm retired, yes?"</p><p>"You've always said you were doing the shit you did for the betterment of humanity. Well we've got some sort of dangerous dimensional intrusion and we're not getting through the DEO's phone menus fast enough. Get me Bones."</p><p>To Waller's <em>immense</em> credit, she doesn't waste time: just feeds Slade the number. He doesn't even say goodbye, hanging up and immediately dialing Bones, who answers the exact way Slade expects him to.</p><p>"This is a private line."</p><p>"This is an emergency," Slade snaps. "Why the fuck isn't the Department of Dimensional Monitoring picking up their phone?"</p><p>"The department is two people, and one of them is in Egypt," Bones answers, but the head of the DEO is apparently already on the move, because Slade can hear a door click open through the phone. "He could be on lunch."</p><p>"Two people—<em>three </em>people—that we know have just been attacked by people from other dimensions. Their counterparts, or their friends counterparts. I need to know why the hell this wasn't picked up."</p><p>Bones makes a noise of pure displeasure, and Slade is forced to wait another agonizing few moments as Bones makes his way through the building.</p><p>And then, very suddenly, Hosun park—the only other worker—is on the phone.</p><p>"I swear I didn't break it."</p><p>Bruce apparently senses that Slade's about to pop a blood vessel, because he reaches up, taking Slade's phone from him and hanging up his own.</p><p>"We aren't saying you did. Tell us what's happening <em>right now."</em></p><p>"Something screwed up the detection, and I've tried rebooting the system, but it's still throwing errors."</p><p>"Mr. Park. Explain the errors. <em>Details, please.</em> This is very important."</p><p>"We had a surge that overloaded the system's capacity, and by the time it came back up it's... I guess still reading the surge?"</p><p>"Don't tell me what you <em>think</em> it's doing. Tell me what the system is saying."</p><p>Bruce obviously has the same idea that Slade does: whatever it is that's happening, it's happening on a scale so large that Hosun is convinced it's some kind of reading error. It's like detecting a 9.0 earthquake: so unlikely to happen, the odds that someone bumped the sensors are far more likely.</p><p>"The system only reads twenty signatures at most, and it detected all that in... all over the place, really. Almost world-wide. The system shut down from being overloaded, and every few minutes since then it detects another one at another random location."</p><p>God<em>damnit.</em></p><p>"Your job and a lot of lives are on the line right now Mr. Park. I need you to get me a map of all those locations, and then I need you to keep that updated. Dump it on the DEO's server, and tell Bones to make sure I get it."</p><p>"Tell the director—"</p><p>"This is not a time for debating who is in charge. Tell Bones. He'll understand. I need you to focus on this. Ignore everything else."</p><p>Clear as day, Slade can hear Hosun swallow, his nerves actually <em>audible.</em></p><p>"You're sure?"</p><p>"I'm sure."</p><p>"Alright, Mr. Wayne," he says quietly. "I'll get you that map."</p><p>The moment Bruce is off the phone, they're heading into the center of the house, and Slade whistles, drawing the attention of everyone there. Terry lets out a wail at the noise, and has to be soothed by Alfred to get him to quiet down.</p><p>"Do we know what's going on?" Jason asks. "Should I be calling people?"</p><p>"We need to do a broadcast. All League frequencies, everyone who's ever been associated with us," Bruce says, shaking his head. "We have, at a minimum, thirty arrivals from another dimension scattered all over the planet. All three we've encountered were hostile, and I think we have to assume that the rest are going to be as well."</p><p>"They've been going after... League members or associates," Slade points out. "Anyone seen anything in the news?"</p><p>"Checked," Will says. "Nothing significant. Might be too early for it. News was empty, but nothing flagged on social media either."</p><p>Slade chews his lip, trying to think through the options. The other Slade is coming for him <em>specifically.</em> Anyone else is collateral. Three feels like too much of a coincidence.</p><p>"Early theory, they're trying to kill whoever they're the counterpart of," Slade proposes. "We need... every League member and their families to get to safety. Pulling together is better—we can shore up our weaknesses. Everyone needs to get ahold of a League member, and then I want Bruce, Alfred, and the twins down in the safe room."</p><p>Bruce looks scandalized.</p><p>"You're kidding me," he says, rounding on Slade. "I'm not going into hiding while this plays out."</p><p>"Bruce, I love you, but I also recognize you're human, with human limitations. We already have one Deathstroke on their way to the house, and I'm not going to be able to fight him if I'm worried about you and the twins. They need to be kept safe, and you can do more from the computer in the safe room than you can in a fight."</p><p>Bruce turns to Will, but Will only shakes his head.</p><p>"I'm with Slade. If anything, I'd want Thomas there too."</p><p>"Good luck," Thomas says simply. It's harder to argue he should be in lockdown with Bruce and the kids when there's so little Thomas would be able to do from there. Alfred and Bruce can handle intelligence and coordination, but Thomas has no experience with their systems.</p><p>"Please," Slade pleads. "Please don't make me fight you on this."</p><p>He's already lost one person. He's not going to risk losing more.</p><p>There's a moment of resistance, and then Bruce relents.</p><p>"Fine. I'll handle coordination from the safe house. But I want everyone else in <em>full armor </em>and watching each other's backs."</p><p>He leans up, kissing Slade on the cheek, and then turns, repeating the gesture with Will.</p><p>It doesn't matter who's coming, or why: Slade knows they're going to make them pay just the same.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Roy / 0:35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Getting a phone call from someone isn't all that unusual, so it doesn't raise any red flags. What <em>does</em> raise red flags is the way the guy letting him know he has a call waiting looks all alarmed, insisting that it's <em>urgent.</em></p><p>The rehab facility isn't at all what he was expecting, but then what people show on TV isn't exactly reality, and the fact that Ollie's paying for his stay means rehab is less <em>rehab</em> and more <em>fancy vacation where everyone wants to talk about addiction.</em></p><p>It's not bad. But it's... distant, at times. The walk across the grounds to the reception area feels like he's in a foreign country, not at a mountain resort tucked not even five miles from a major city. A part of him wonders if it's really going to stick once he's out there in the real world.</p><p>A part of him worries it isn't going to.</p><p>"They said it's important," a secretary says, handing the phone over to Roy as he settles in at one of the desks. Wally, maybe. Or Iris. Maybe Bart's sick, and that sends a stab of worry through him.</p><p>"It's Roy."</p><p>"Oh thank god."</p><p>It's Jason, which is... well, Roy likes hearing from Jason usually, but his deeply exasperated sigh of relief isn't exactly a good sign.</p><p>"Going to assume something's going on, then."</p><p>"Long story made really, really short, something's happened and now there's evil counterparts of a bunch of people popping up trying to kill them, and we got a map and one of them is like two miles from you."</p><p>Oh. Well, definitely not what Roy was expecting, but realistically he should know better than to expect any sort of <em>normal</em> crisis with the League. It's never <em>Bart got caught skipping school, </em>it's always <em>evil alternate universe selves are coming to kill you.</em></p><p>"What's the plan, then?"</p><p>"You can check yourself out?"</p><p>He can. Roy's only ever been there under his own power. Any time he wanted, he could choose to leave, but once he's out the door there's no guarantee they'll have room for him to come back.</p><p>He's been in rehab almost four months, and even if he knows it's time to leave, it still feels like a <em>choice.</em> The moment he's out the door, he's under his own power. The moment he leaves, his mistakes are his own again.</p><p>"Yeah," he finally answers. "I can leave. Where am I heading?" A thought occurs to him, a chill running down his spine. "What about Iris and the boys?"</p><p>"No arrivals in the Central City area yet, but that doesn't mean much," Jason says. He's right: a speedster could appear anywhere on the planet and get there in no time at all. Just because no one's popped up in Central doesn't mean a thing. "You probably want to rendezvous with them and get somewhere safe. We're contacting everyone as fast as we can, but being together is probably the safer option here."</p><p>Who's nearby? No one's really <em>near,</em> but if he calls Wally, he can hitch a ride to somewhere. Maybe out west, or maybe he'd be smarter to head to Gotham, where the Bats and the Supers are.</p><p>"I'll—"</p><p>An arrow goes through the phone. Technically there's <em>also</em> the sound of breaking glass as something punches through the window of the glassed in reception hall, but really, Roy only has eyes for the arrow. It's past him in a flash, but the flash of red fletching is enough.</p><p>Roy runs.</p><p>He knows, instinctively, that the other Roy must have meant to miss. A warning shot, either out of courtesy or because the other Roy doesn't want to kill him in front of someone, but the fact that the arrow didn't go through his skull is still a win for him, and he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.</p><p>The fact is that if the other Roy (assuming it <em>is</em> another Roy, but the red fletching is pretty damned obvious) wanted him dead already, he would be.</p><p>He bolts for the trees on pure instinct, knowing better then to head into the open space or one of the houses. There are people there, and he needs to stay <em>away </em>from people. The farther he is away from innocents, the better. But he's to the edge of the woods before his brain catches up that the woods aren't going to give him any advantage. Just because all of Ollie's survival training is bouncing around in his head doesn't give him anything, because his pursuer probably <em>also</em> had those lessons.</p><p>Too late to second guess.</p><p>He ducks behind a tree just as an arrow <em>thunks</em> into the back of it, and Roy can't decide if it was another warning shot, or if he just got lucky. He doesn't have a plan, or even a real goal: all he knows is that the thicker the brush, the better his chances.</p><p>An arrow gets so close it actually cuts through the top of his shoulder, and Roy knows that just running isn't going to be enough. He dives into the nearest brush, doing everything he can to keep low. To keep <em>quiet.</em></p><p>Running isn't going to work, but stealth might.</p><p>He can hear the other Roy moving, his pace slowed. He's clearly lost track of where Roy's gone, and now he's creeping around, trying to locate him. Standing perfectly still, his breathing as slow and soft as he can make it, Roy realizes he's put himself in an impossibly risky position. He's playing <em>the most dangerous game</em> with someone who has, at a minimum, an actual weapon. Probably armor too. Meanwhile, Roy's in jeans and a t-shirt without so much as a pen to defend himself with.</p><p>He's screwed, and it's going to take every bit of skill he's got to get himself out of it.</p><p>"Figured I should let you know this isn't personal," the other Roy calls out, sealing any possibility that he might be someone else. It's a patently transparent tactic, an attempt to get Roy to call out something like <em>it sure feels personal,</em> but Roy doesn't rise to the challenge, keeping his mouth firmly shut. The other Roy isn't even six or seven feet away, but that's still too far.</p><p>If he wants to have a chance, he's going to need to be within a foot or two. Any farther, and the other Roy will have time to put an arrow through his chest before he can reach him.</p><p>He debates tossing a rock—oldest trick in the book, really—but doubts it's going to work. The longer he waits, the more alarmed he becomes, the number of options he has narrowing.</p><p>He can't die there.</p><p>Not after everything he's gone through. Not after finally putting the pieces back together. He has people to go back to. People to make up to. Iris. Wally. <em>Bart.</em></p><p>"How about this. You step out, and I'll make it quick. Put you down nice and easy, no suffering. We both know you're not getting out of here alive, anyway."</p><p>There's a gust of wind, and then a small, very confused, voice.</p><p>"Dad?"</p><p>
  <em>Bart.</em>
</p><p>Bart's come—probably because Jason called him—and he's seen <em>the other Roy.</em></p><p>Roy reacts before he can even finish the thought. He throws himself out of his hiding spot just in time to see the other Roy shooting an arrow towards Bart, no doubt on pure instinct.</p><p>It's the last mistake he'll get to make.</p><p>Bart knows better than to stand around when someone's shooting an arrow at him, so he simply seems to flicker, the arrow passing harmlessly through the place where he was when it was first launched. The other Roy turns, but he's not fast enough at grabbing another arrow, and Roy collides with his midsection, taking him to the ground.</p><p>Bart is <em>right there,</em> and the other Roy was going to hurt him, and that's all the motivation he needs. The other Roy's armor isn't going to help him much, but the bow just might. Even if <em>shooting</em> a bow isn't plausible in close quarters, the riser is still a hard piece of extremely durable material, and getting hit by it is going to hurt. He grabs either side of the riser, trying to wrench it from his enemies grip, and for the first time gets a good look at him.</p><p>He's Roy, but older. Maybe two or three years at most, with the faintest bit of a beard. He's got a scar running across his cheek, just over where the beard ends, but otherwise Roy can't blame Bart for looking at him and being confused for a moment.</p><p>Bart's flitting around the area, obviously not sure how to help, and Roy's forced to ignore them. Winning the fight is going to take <em>all</em> of his concentration, and he can't take his focus away to check on Bart.</p><p>The other Roy's got his hands on the riser too, pulling it back to keep Roy from getting it away from him. The bow's going to decide how things go, and getting it out of the other Roy's grip is proving difficult. He's strong—at least as strong as Roy himself, if not stronger—and Roy needs to take advantage of the fact the the other Roy is obviously <em>very</em> distracted by the way Bart is whirling around the two of them.</p><p>So he abruptly reverses direction.</p><p>Rather than trying to wrestle the bow away from the other Roy, a fools errand, he simply shoves it back. The sudden swap from pull to push throws them off, and Roy throws his weight behind it. The riser, hard and unforgiving, slams into the other Roy's throat, and he lets out a choked noise. Roy isn't stupid enough to let up, taking full advantage of the fact that he's on top to keep the struggling to a minimum.</p><p>"Bart, go get—" The bastard below him kicks his back, which hurts but not enough to make Roy stop. "—Go get handcuffs. Something to hold him." He's not letting up until the other Roy is either unconscious or bound, which he thinks is only fair considering that he was trying to <em>kill him.</em></p><p>Bart vanishes off to get something to secure the other Roy with, and the other Roy chokes out one brief, desperate  to be heard, even as he tries to use his hands to free himself, switching from struggling with the bow to hammering at Roy's sides.</p><p>"I've got—I've got a kid to go back to—" He chokes.</p><p>Roy isn't going to let up.</p><p>"So do I."</p><p>He's been gone too long. He's left things to others, shirked his duties. Barry might be gone, but the people he's left behind aren't, and Roy needs to be there for them.</p><p>He can't spend any more time mourning.</p><p>The body below him goes limp, and Roy counts it out before releasing them. He's probably bruised their windpipe to hell and back, but when he releases them, they suck in a desperate breath, choking and coughing. Roy has the upper hand, though: he has the bow.</p><p>"Here!" Bart calls, arriving out of nowhere with a pair of handcuffs held high. "What do I do with them?"</p><p>Roy doesn't answer, reaching out to take the handcuffs and getting to work. He flips the other Roy, already starting to regain consciousness, and cuffs his wrists behind him before getting to work removing his gear, double checking for any weapons.</p><p>"Where did you even get these?" Roy asks as he works, not taking his eyes off his counterpart.</p><p>"Found the nearest police officer and borrowed them. I told them I'd bring them back."</p><p>At the very least Bart's in costume, so <em>that's</em> one less thing to worry about. They can bill the DEO if they're worried about it.</p><p>Only once he's sure there aren't any weapons does he look up, hesitating before holding out his arms. Bart blurs into them, pulling Roy into a too-tight hug.</p><p>"Oof, alright, too tight," Roy wheezes, quickly relocating Bart's arms a bit lower. "Probably cracked a rib. We'll deal with it. Jason call you?"</p><p>Bart nods quickly, and then hesitates, letting Roy go entirely.</p><p>"He called mom, and then she told me to go and went to call Wally, so... I guess he'll be here soon?"</p><p>"Soon enough." Roy catches himself staring down at his counterpart, who's awake enough to be staring up at him, eyes half-lidded.</p><p>"What are we going to do with him?" Bart asks, leaning over to stare down at him. "He's like... evil you?"</p><p>Roy's not sure he's willing to call him evil, but he's certainly a lot more willing to murder.</p><p>"We'll just have to figure that out... but we're going to do it together."</p><p>He rests a hand on Bart's shoulder, giving it a squeeze, and winces at the pain in his ribs.</p><p>It's going to be a long, long day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dick / 0:40</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hearing from Alfred is normally a good thing, but hearing from Alfred that the world's being invaded by some sort of alternate universe evil army is not.</p><p>Really, Dick <em>wants</em> to say that he's shocked, but he's really not. He's been through this sort of nonsense before. Hell, <em>Will's very existence </em>is more or less the same kind of nonsense, and Dick's putting money on it ending the same way.</p><p>Doesn't mean he's not going to take it seriously, though. He puts in a call to the rest of the Bludhaven crew, loads his gear up in the back of the car, and then heads down towards the school, calling ahead to let them know he needs to <em>borrow</em> Dax.</p><p>Why can't this crisis be happening on a weekend?</p><p>He isn't able to check the whole team out of the school, but he can at least grab the one he has guardianship over. With him and Dax geared up, they can take defensive positions. Be prepared. Anything other than standing around waiting.</p><p>He's doing that <em>waiting</em> in the school parking lot when the hairs on the back of Dick's neck stand up. Nothing's punched through his car window just yet, so he tries to keep it subtle as he scans the surrounding rooftops. The first time around, he actually misses it entirely, but the second time he spots it—the tiniest bit of movement on a nearby rooftop.</p><p><em>That's</em> not good.</p><p>From what Alfred's said, Dick's putting money on the figure on the rooftop being some kind of evil alternate him. Not a great place for a fight, so he shoots the group a quick text.</p><p><b>NW:</b> Figure on the roof sw of school. Careful.</p><p>There's a flurry of confirmations (the fact that they're all on their phones during school hours doesn't surprise him), and then Dax bursts out the front door of the school, going down the steps two at a time as he heads for the car. Dick waits, paranoid Dax is about to get jumped, but he makes it to the car without issue, sliding into the passenger seat.</p><p>"They're up there," Dax confirms without looking. "What's the plan?"</p><p>"Gear's in the back seat. Going to leave the school and see if they follow us. If they do, we'll lure them away from the school and engage. If they don't... well, we'll sneak up on them."</p><p>That's the best case scenario.</p><p>"Good chance that the guy on the roof is either me or one of you," Dick clarifies. "So... expect similar training. It's going to be a <em>fight,</em> but there's two of us and one of them."</p><p>He leaves Dax on <em>discreet spy duty</em> as he focuses on the road, heading to the industrial side of Bludhaven, the roads less traveled.</p><p>"Want the good news or the bad news?" Dax asks, and Dick lets out a groan, which apparently counts as an answer. "They're following. Bad news: there's two of them."</p><p>So much for <em>two of us and one of them.</em></p><p>They still (probably, maybe) have the home field advantage, and as they approach Dick's intended destination (a nice open yard, the warehouse that occupied it previously having burnt down months ago), Dax retrieves their gear, suiting up in the front seat as Dick parks right in the middle, pulling on every bit of gear he can that isn't going to leave him vulnerable.</p><p>"Movement?" He asks, pulling on his chest-piece.</p><p>"They're... something. Talking? Roof closest to us. But none of them have come down."</p><p>Dick has enough time to actually get fully changed before he signals for Dax to hop out, exiting the car as the same time as him and turning back towards where Dax indicated their pursuers were waiting.</p><p>There doesn't seem to be any movement, and Dick isn't sure if that's a good thing or not. On one hand, it did give them the time to gear up, but on the other... well, their opponents might be doing the same thing.</p><p>He tosses his eskrima stick, bouncing it to his other hand nervously, and then takes a deep breath, holding his hand out and making a <em>come forth</em> gesture. A taunt. It couldn't be more blatant.</p><p>And yet there's no response.</p><p>"...Alright," Dick grunts. "Time for us to go to <em>them,</em> I guess."</p><p>Working in broad daylight is <em>fucking weird, </em>and if anyone is nearby there's no doubt that they're getting quite a show. Dick doesn't bother trying to climb, shooting his grapple up the side and letting it carry him up with a grunt of exertion.</p><p>Dax follows, having a much easier time of it. That's what Dick gets for slacking on his <em>own</em> training. It's been far too long since he grappled.</p><p>He comes up over the side prepared to come up swinging, and yet, as he comes up, there's no one in the immediate vicinity. Thirty or so feet back, their pursuers are standing, but they're giving them plenty of space.</p><p>Or one of them is.</p><p>The other, in a set of gear that's hard to mistake as anything other than a<em> Talons</em> gear, is lying on the rooftop, their head twisted at an angle that it should most definitely <em>not</em> be twisted at, owl motif or not.</p><p>The man standing over him is perfectly calm, his hands apparently clasped behind his back as he waits for Dick and Dax to finish getting onto the roof. He's dressed in what looks like a black form-fitting suit of armor, with a green robe with gold embellishments around the edges. It's all very <em>ornate</em> looking, although not as ornate as the golden jackal mask on his face.</p><p>Anubis. Alright. Between the colors and the imagery, Dick doesn't have to play guessing games at least.</p><p>"Ra's," Dick calls, raising his sticks up in front of him defensively. "Whatever is going on, it's not going to work."</p><p>Ra's voice doesn't sound right when he speaks, but Dick simply chalks it up to being muffled by the mask.</p><p>"That would be ideal, yes."</p><p>"Huh?" Dax is apparently as confused as Dick is, glancing between Ra's, Dick, and the dead body at Ra's feet. "What's even going on?"</p><p>Ra's gestures to the dead Talon, and then, to Dick's <em>immense</em> shock, explains.</p><p>"I believe the dead Talon is your alternate counterpart, Grayson. I've done you the service of putting him down and saving you the moral crisis. Even so, he's hardly the only threat—without the court, his danger was minimized. You won't be so lucky with other counterparts."</p><p>"No, hold on," Dax blurts out, still glancing between the two of them. "That thing on the ground is... evil Dick?"</p><p>Dick can't see Ra's face, but he gets the impression that he's grimacing just the same.</p><p>"Good and evil don't come into play here. The universes they are from can be classed loosely as <em>dark worlds, </em>but they aren't dark because they're evil—they're dark because their creation was inherently flawed. No matter what the people of those world's do, they will always turn to despair. They will break down and degrade."</p><p>Okay. That's... actually genuinely helpful, and Dick makes note of it.</p><p>"Hold on, are you... helping?" Dick asks, trying not to sound <em>too</em> flabbergasted. He's killed the other Dick to help him (assuming a Talon even <em>can</em> be counted as killed). He's giving them information.</p><p>"Yes," Ra's confirms. "The world I come from is no different from the others. It is a failed creation, falling apart regardless of my efforts. The others from those worlds who are no doubt engaging your allies are doing so in hopes of having their particular world—or just themselves—elevated. Some fight to replace this world with their own. Some wish to abandon their homes and claim this world for themselves."</p><p>Dick exchanges a brief look with Dax, biting back questions to focus on what <em>really</em> matters.</p><p>"And you don't?"</p><p>"As I said, my world is no different. I would rather this world continue, so my aim is to assist the occupants of this world, yourself included. I would recommend we head directly to the manor, where the rest of your family should be rallying."</p><p>It's entirely possible that he's being lied to. The whole thing could be a trick. But at the same time, there's nothing in Ra's explanation that rings false to him. A dark world doesn't mean that everyone in it is inherently evil. Not <em>every</em> person arriving has to be out to kill them.</p><p>And if nothing else, he'll be a lot more prepared to fight back surrounded by his family.</p><p>"...Lets go, then." Dick says. "I'm assuming you're riding with us?"</p><p>Ra's tips his head up, staring at the sky only briefly, and then shakes his head.</p><p>"Oh no," he says, the smile in his voice audible. "I have my own."</p><p>A shadow passes overhead, and Dick doesn't think he's ever heard of such an extreme understatement.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Michael / 0:40</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hearing his <em>something has gone horribly wrong </em>alert go off doesn't have the same effect on Michael it once did. Once upon a time he'd have been sprinting to a weapons cache, but an extended retirement has dulled his instincts. Instead, he stops what he's doing, ducks to the side of the hallway, and checks the secure app on his phone.</p><p><b>Bruce: </b>@ All associates. Serious and developing situation happening worldwide. Alternate universe incursion by hostile versions of ourselves. Already encountered Slade at a minimum, 20+ estimated active hostiles. Locate any allies, group up, and rendezvous at mansion or nearest safe house.</p><p>Michael stares at the message, lets out a weary sigh, and gets to work.</p><p>It's a stroke of luck that he's in the main Wayne Enterprises building dropping off some paperwork, because it lets him take the elevator straight up to the meeting rooms.</p><p>Normally there are <em>procedures</em> involved, but Michael's ranked highly enough within the greater Wayne Enterprises umbrella that no one questions him brushing right through security and into an active Wayne Enterprises meeting.</p><p>Everyone looks up, surprised by the interruption, and Michael engages in a piece of Joey-specific trickery.</p><p>"Sorry to interrupt, but I just got a call from the Wayne-Wilsons—there's a family emergency, and they'd like Joey to head back to the house," he says.</p><p><em>Evil clones coming to attack us, </em>he signs at the same time, knowing Joey will pick up on it.</p><p>Joey stands immediately, signing an apology to his interpreter, who makes all the relevant apologies as Lucius offers his own well wishes that everyone will be alright. Michael waits just outside for Joey to finish, joining him in the hall inside of a minute.</p><p><em>Anyone hurt? </em>Joey signs as they head for the elevator. <em>How bad is it?</em></p><p>"Only have the one message. You've probably got the same one."</p><p>Joey scowls, shaking his head.</p><p>
  <em>This is what I get for turning my phone off during meetings.</em>
</p><p>Michael spends the entire trip down to the parking garage waiting to get jumped, and it's obvious that Joey is too. That's more or less expected. That's the normal order of operations. They get told about an incoming danger, they move to prepare themselves, they get jumped before they're prepared.</p><p>They take Joey's car, but on Joey's prompting, Michael drives. Joey, on the other hand, retrieves a handgun from a secure compartment hidden where the glove compartment is supposed to be, and Michael wonders why he's even surprised.</p><p>Joey <em>is</em> Will's son, after all.</p><p>Michael makes the tactical choice to avoid the usual roads, heading south out of Gotham through Ivy's jungle. There are no cars on the road, and if something's going to drop out of the sky and try and kill them, Michael would rather they not be in the middle of a crowded highway.</p><p>If the situation weren't so serious (and dangerous), Michael would be almost <em>amused</em> that exactly that happens.</p><p>A man in heavy armor drops out of the sky, landing square on the hood of the car. Even in the few seconds Michael has to process things as the car slams to a stop, his brain processes enough to register that it's definitely <em>him,</em> not Joey, that they're dealing with. The white-and-red armor is pretty hard to mistake for anyone else, but the flaming sword is downright impossible.</p><p>Michael slams face first into the rapidly inflating airbag, his head spinning. He's more durable than the average human, and that's the only reason he's able to move as fast as he is, bailing out of the car and drawing Azrael's focus away from the car where Joey's no doubt waiting.</p><p>He is not in a good position.</p><p>Azrael has his full suit of no doubt enhanced armor, a sword that is literally <em>on fire,</em> and a considerable amount of knowledge that Michael doesn't have. By comparison, Michael is <em>retired,</em> unarmed, and the only suit he's wearing is a business suit.</p><p>Not a great situation, and Michael has to take advantage of the only advantage he has.</p><p>He runs for the jungle.</p><p>If he's lucky, Ivy will recognize him as an ally. At worst, she should just recognize him as a normal human. By comparison, Azrael's sword is literally <em>on fire; </em>he's a threat to the plant life around him, and Michael's desperately hoping that he'll hack his way through the jungle as he follows.</p><p>Enraging Ivy is a bad idea, but hopefully Azrael doesn't know that.</p><p>Travelling through the jungle is difficult at the best of times, and harder still to do while being chased. Michael doesn't get far, not even ten or so feet in before every plant around him comes alive, bunching together and forcibly ejecting him. He's tossed (mostly harmlessly) onto the road, rolling to a stop with a wheeze. Not pleasant, enhanced durability or not.</p><p>Azrael, on the other hand, is having a much harder time.</p><p>From the moment Michael looks up, he can tell that his counterpart is in trouble. Thick roots have risen up, wrapping around him and pinning him in place. A flaming sword helps against leaves and bushes, but against tree roots it's not doing much, despite his furious attempts to hack away at them. A sword isn't an ax, and the fact that the sword is on fire isn't doing anything other than enraging Ivy more.</p><p>There's a bang of something hitting metal, and Michael turns to fine Joey on his feet, standing just beside the car. Michael picks himself up, running for Joey.</p><p>It's through watching Joey that Michael realizes it isn't over. Joey's expression turns to shock, and then to absolute horror, and Michael spins around to find himself facing something out of a nightmare.</p><p>Only context tells him that the thing emerging from woods was once likely Pamela Isley. The being before him is unrecognizable as the red-haired woman he knows, and only barely recognizable as something that was once human. They hang suspended nearly five feet off the ground, held in the air by what look like tree branches buried in their back. The body shape is really all that gives away that they were probably once human, but the features are all wrong. Rather than skin, the thing has rough bark. Rather than hair, leaves. It lacks a mouth or nose, the face largely flat, the only thing remaining being a pair of eyes glowing a brilliant green.</p><p>The monstrous Ivy doesn't try and talk or communicate. Her attention is purely on Azrael, looming up in front of him. Michael has no idea what she's going to do, but right then he's just happy that she's not focused on <em>them.</em></p><p>Or at least he's happy right until the monster in front of them tightens the roots, dragging a scream of pain out of Azrael before she simply <em>tears him in half.</em></p><p>Michael feels like throwing up. He's seen a lot of horrific things before, but facing down something so clearly inhuman and so obviously murderous is something else. He doesn't want to have to fight her. He wants to be very, very far away.</p><p>That plan doesn't last, because Ivy turns their head, their eyes which are only barely even eyes focusing on Michael and Joey.</p><p>Michael's blood runs cold for just a moment, the fear threatening to overtake him. He pushes it back as fast as it comes, because standing around and letting himself (and Joey, for that matter) get torn in half isn't an option. Reasoning with it might just be, though.</p><p>"Ivy? I know you might not recognize me, but we're allies here. We've worked together before, and we're all on the same—"</p><p>He dives out of the way as a network of roots wrenches itself from the earth below, interrupting his meager attempt to negotiate. He's fast on his feet, managing to turn it into a roll, but an option of escape vanishes when a massive root slams into the side of the car, flipping it onto its side and forcing Joey to jump away from it to keep from getting crushed.</p><p>With fleeing no longer an option, Michael's only choice is offense.</p><p>He goes for Azrael's fallen sword.</p><p>It's the only weapon handy, and no doubt going to do better against some kind of plant monster than Joey's gun (assuming Joey even still <em>has</em> the gun). Really, though, Michael's more interested in the fire, convinced it might be able to ward Ivy off until they can call for backup. He might have had a chance against Azrael, but Ivy is on a whole other level.</p><p>A root catches his shoulder, jerking him up and off the ground, but he manages to snag the guard of the sword, hauling it up with him as he's lifted off the ground. To his relief, it doesn't start frying him, the sword apparently having found him <em>compatible,</em> and when he swings the sword to cut himself free, it bursts into flames.</p><p>The sword goes right through the thin root, and Ivy recoils. Michael feels like she should be screaming, only she doesn't even have a mouth, her reactions broadcast primarily through the foliage around her.</p><p>The sword isn't enough to save him from her full attention, though. A much larger root comes at him, despite his desperate attempts to parry, and loops around his waist, jerking him off his feet. He hacks furiously at the root, horrifyingly aware of the fact that his situation is extremely similar to that of the now-dead Azrael.</p><p>He's going to get torn in half and he doesn't have any options at all.</p><p>There's the bang of a gunshot behind him and for a moment Michael's convinced<em> he's</em> been shot out of pure instinct. When he looks, Ivy's got a chunk of bark torn off near their torso, and they're staring towards Joey... but doing nothing.</p><p>Michael offers a quiet prayer of thanks, still held up by the roots, and tries to twist around.</p><p>"Joey? Joey, please tell me you got her."</p><p>Joey's slumped against the side of the car, still and unmoving, and when Michael turns, he finds that Ivy isn't moving either. She's largely still, and he's forced to wait for several minutes until Ivy abruptly starts moving again.</p><p>"Joey?"</p><p>He hopes so. He's known about Joey's gift for a long time, but he's never really seen it in action, and he has no idea what the exact limitations of it are. If Joey <em>has</em> taken over Ivy, that means they've won, but Michael doubts it'll be that easy.</p><p><em>Hard, </em>Ivy signs, her gestures clumsy enough that Michael's having difficulty understanding. <em>Not human enough.</em></p><p>Okay. Alright. He can work with that.</p><p>"Just tell me what we need to do." The roots around him begin to loosen as he speaks, and Michael manages to squirm his way free, dropping to the ground with the sword still in hand.</p><p>Ivy signs, but Michael can't understand it, and Ivy's forced to repeat it, making it that much more obvious how much of a struggle controlling her is.</p><p>
  <em>Kill her with sword.</em>
</p><p>Joey emphasizes the gesture as best he can, warring with Ivy even as he lowers her down to just over the ground. His intentions are clear, but Michael hesitates just the same. Ivy is... well, Ivy. She's been an ally to them, and even if this isn't the same Ivy, striking her down while defenseless feels wrong.</p><p>And then his eyes fall to the corpse on the ground and he hardens his nerve. The Ivy in front of him can't be compared to the one he knows. They aren't human anymore, and either unable or unwilling to be reasoned with.</p><p>They're a danger not just to him and Joey, but to the whole of Gotham if allowed to run free.</p><p>Michael does the only thing he can and uses the sword for its originally intended purpose: slaying monsters to protect the innocent.</p><p>He hates every second.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Cass / 0:50</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassandra runs.</p><p>She doesn't want to run—every bit of instinct she has tells her to turn around and go right back to the house she considers her own—but she runs anyway. Her chances against the other Deathstroke—the one who is definitely not Slade, and definitely not Will—are slim but present, but the choice of fighting against him was taken away.</p><p>Maybe her father knew something she didn't. Maybe, in the year she's spent with him, Cassandra grew too weak to defend her home.</p><p>All she knows is that from the moment the blade went through his shoulder, her choice to fight was gone. She couldn't stay behind and make his sacrifice be in vain. Not when he begged her to run.</p><p>So she ran.</p><p>Even if she hates it.</p><p>She's been running almost nonstop, and the exhaustion is setting in. She has only a vague direction, a loose estimate of how far she has to go. She stays away from people, well aware that Deathstroke is probably after her, and simply does what she can to maximize the distance between them. With no bike to worry about, she takes advantage of rough terrain, going places that a vehicle never could.</p><p>Which is why the sound of pursuit behind her is that much more alarming. He's catching up, and there's no question he'll be able to outrun her. He has enhancements that she doesn't, advantages she can't dream of. She uses one of her only advantages, being light and agile, and jumps, catching a low tree branch and hauling herself up, scaling the tree as quickly as she can. The heavy forest blocks out so much light, but she can see well enough when her pursuer reaches where she jumped, jumping effortlessly to catch the same branch and beginning to climb.</p><p>It shouldn't be possible. Deathstroke is too big, too heavy. The branch should have snapped, and yet her much smaller pursuer is coming right up the tree after her.</p><p>Cassandra doesn't have a weapon, so she simply snaps off a small branch. It'll do in a pinch.</p><p>"Not enemy," a voice calls up from below, and it takes Cassandra several long seconds to realize that the voice calling up at her is her own.</p><p>The Cassandra down below is older by several years, wearing a black form-sitting suit of durable armor. It's slim and stealthy, not unlike the armor Cassandra herself would have worn, but the sword sheathes on her back are what draw Cassandra's attention, her snapped off twig suddenly seeming woefully insufficient.</p><p>"Killed my father," Cassandra snaps down at her counterpart below. She'll never forget, and she's never going to forgive either.</p><p>"Not me," comes the answer.</p><p>Cassandra doesn't know what's happening. She can't decide if it's the truth or not, but it seems equally likely that it might be. Even so, she holds her place, staring down. She could leap, she realizes. She could fight on the way down. If she rolled right, she might even land on top of the other Cassandra, and that would give her a major advantage.</p><p>"Prove it."</p><p>The other Cassandra doesn't seem to be as able to communicate as Cassandra herself is. A year of speech therapy and positive encouragement has helped her a great deal, and she gets the impression that her counterpart hasn't been so lucky. Instead of talking, she reaches up, withdrawing her sword from the sheath on her back.</p><p>It's a work of beauty, which makes it all the more surprising when Cassandra drops it, letting it tumble harmlessly to the ground.</p><p>She's probably not unarmed, but the sentiment is clear enough.</p><p>"Why?" Cassandra calls down. It's a simple question, and yet it encompasses everything: why is everything happening? Why her?</p><p>"To win. To kill... other selves." The conversation is clearly stretching the other Cassandra to her limits, and yet she tries anyway. She taps her chest, indicating herself. "No desire. Will.. fight strong people. Be strong."</p><p>Cassandra doesn't understand. She thinks she's being called weak, and being told that the other Cassandra only wants to fight the strong. It's a sentiment she once held, the constant desire to challenge those stronger than her, to push herself to her limits.</p><p>She's put that behind her.</p><p>"Don't... want to fight," Cassandra says finally. "Not.. like that."</p><p>She's put it behind her. She doesn't want to fight. She'd fight to protect those close to her, but she doesn't <em>want</em> to.</p><p>The other Cassandra makes a dismissive noise, shaking her head.</p><p>"Weak."</p><p>"Strong," Cassandra counters.</p><p>There's a noise from above, and both of them look up. Cassandra can't see what it is, but she immediately knows there's someone up there.</p><p>Friend or foe?</p><p>She glances back down, and the other Cassandra is obviously has the same thought. That's good, probably—she isn't certain either, which means the person up above isn't someone she was expecting.</p><p>The other Cassandra stares up at her for a moment.</p><p>"Man who killed was not alone," she says simply. "Two to kill."</p><p>And then she's gone, dropping down to the forest floor. She retrieves her sword, slipping it into place, and then darts off, leaving Cassandra behind.</p><p>The forest is silent, and the seconds tick by. Only once the other Cassandra is long gone is there another rustle from up above, and Superboy descends.</p><p>Cassandra's seen the costumes before, but doesn't know which is which. The children of Superman are too similar, and impossible for her to tell apart with only the color of a jacket to distinguish them.</p><p>"Yellow," she calls.</p><p>"Sorry." He looks deeply apologetic as he sinks down to her level. "Mr. Wayne said I wasn't supposed to fight <em>anyone </em>under <em>any circumstances,</em> and I don't like upsetting him." He pauses, shifting nervously. "If she'd jumped you, I'd have come down to help though, you know?"</p><p>"Doesn't matter," she says simply. "She said..." She pauses, chewing over how to say it. "More enemies. Deathstroke and... someone else."</p><p>Superboy's face scrunches up like he's not sure how to handle that.</p><p>"You'd have to tell Mr. Wayne. I don't really know what's going on—I've just been flying around searching for you."</p><p>"Back to the manor."</p><p>She doesn't know how she feels about going back to the manor. She'd been excited to return, invited for holidays, to be able to show off how much she's changed.</p><p>Returning now feels like failure.</p><p>"That's the idea," Superboy says, not seeming to notice.  Maybe she's not showing it. Maybe that's good, or maybe it's bad.</p><p>He holds out his hand, and after a moment, Cassandra takes it.</p><p>Flying is uncomfortable. She has no control over what's going on, and can't do anything but wait as she's flown back towards Gotham. She wants it to be over as soon as possible.</p><p>She doesn't get her wish.</p><p>"Uh," Superboy says quietly, his voice all but torn away by the wind. "Someone's coming."</p><p>The feeling of helplessness only increases. She can see the danger coming, but do nothing to stop it. In the distance, she can see a dot on the horizon that's only getting larger, a flying opponent that's angled themselves to cut them off.</p><p>"Call father," Cass prompts, a stab of pain at the idea. It's the best choice. They need to call for help, because she's not going to be any use in a battle in the <em>sky.</em></p><p>"Uh, right," Superboy says, fumbling with one hand to pull out a phone. He's having a hard time focusing on it, his speed dropping slightly as he's distracted, but he apparently makes the call.</p><p>"I've got—there's another Superboy coming to intercept," he says hastily into the phone. "I'm flying over the highway, about an hour of Gotham by car, and I don't think I'm going to make—yeah, I have Cassandra."</p><p>He sounds afraid. Afraid and <em>young,</em> and maybe Cass shouldn't be thinking of things that way, but it's true just hte same. Superboy is young. He might <em>look</em> almost the same age as her, but he's really only a year old.</p><p>"Superboy," Cassandra says, interrupting the conversation and drawing his attention. "You can do it."</p><p>He seems genuinely surprised for a moment, and then his expression becomes more serious, and he nods.</p><p>"I might have to... to drop you and catch you. I don't want you to get caught up in it, okay?"</p><p>The phone call is abandoned, and Cassandra reaches out, taking the phone. They're still on the line, possibly for tracking purposes, and she tucks the phone away, leaving Superboy free to do what he can.</p><p>It feels like a race. Their pursuer is getting closer and closer, and the closer they get to Gotham, the better.</p><p>The closer they get, the more details Cassandra can pick out. If not for the costume, she'd be unable to tell her Superboy and the enemy Superboy apart.</p><p>But the LexCorp logo on the others shoulder is pretty hard to miss. They're in a colorless jumpsuit, lacking the individual flair of the other Superboys.</p><p>They're hardly more than twenty feet away when they call out.</p><p>"You might as well drop her, because if not, she's going to get splattered. Would be a shame, you know?"</p><p>Cass does <em>not </em>know, and she doesn't want to.</p><p>"Could we just... not fight? I really don't want to drop her," Superboy says, holding Cass a bit tighter.</p><p>"Yeah, well, no," the other Superboy says. He turns over, flying effectively on his back, facing them. He's keeping pace, which is probably easier for him to do since he's not carrying anyone. "Sorry, but as much as it'd be cool to chat with you and like, compare notes, I <em>am</em> on a schedule, and the old man's going to be pissed if I don't splatter you."</p><p>The other Superboy darts in, and Cass drops.</p><p>Falling from the sky is like something out of a nightmare. Her options are almost painfully limited. She holds her arms out, letting her clothes catch in the air to slow her fall, but the effect is nonexistent. She tries to rotate and see what's happening above, but it's too difficult to see, the combatants all but lost in the sky above.</p><p>She squeezes her eyes shut against the wind, sucking in a deep breath and trying to calm down. It's out of her hands. Isn't that what Billy would have said? <em>Sometimes, things are out of your hands, and all you can do is take a deep breath.</em></p><p>Someone catches her hand.</p><p>Cass opens her eyes to find Superboy—<em>her</em> Superboy, the one who's been carrying her—is just to her side. He doesn't jerk her to a stop, carefully keeping pace with her as he slips under her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck and shoulders. Only then does he start to really <em>fly,</em> redirecting her momentum rather than stopping it suddenly as he loops back around, flying back up towards two tiny dots well above them.</p><p>She can't even ask what's going on, and she doesn't understand at all until Superboy finally stops, letting her take a look.</p><p>The other Superboy appears frozen, dangling in the air but not actually moving. Just a few feet away is a stranger, a new arrival in blue with a gold cape and a gold helmet that doesn't seem to be reflecting the light so much as absorbing it. His one hand is outstretched, and the air in front of it appears to be flickering.</p><p>"Khalid came to help," Superboy says, looking extremely relieved by that fact. "He's stunned him."</p><p>"You should continue to the manor," the new arrival—Khalid, apparently—announces. "I'll handle him and meet you there."</p><p>Cass is pretty sure they should stay. At <em>worst,</em> their enemy is as strong as a Kryptonian, and yet the new arrival is just pinning him in place with a gesture. It doesn't make sense, and tells her she's missing something important about the situation.</p><p>"Okay. We'll meet you back at the house, alright?" Superboy calls, and then he's off, leaving Cass no time to protest or even ask any questions.</p><p>She's ready to be back on the ground.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Duke / 1:00</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few of the others seem to be under the slightly delusional belief that Dick doesn't know what they're up to, and Duke isn't sure of how to dissuade them of that fact.</p><p>Sure, Dick <em>said</em> that they needed to go straight from school to the manor in Gotham to take shelter the moment they were let out for lunch, but Dick <em>also</em> informed them that there were six signals detected in close proximity to one another in Bludhaven, and that they should absolutely not go looking into it themselves.</p><p>Which is, as far as Duke's concerned, Dick's way of begging them to do exactly that. Dax might not be around, but he's got Dre, Riko, Z, and Shug with him, and five is enough to even the odds.</p><p>In theory.</p><p>They've all got their costumes on as they sneak up onto the rooftops. Z's checking the coordinates they've been given against a map, but really it's just a matter of heading the right direction and listening for trouble. If there's trouble, they'll notice. If there isn't... well, then there's less for them to be concerned with.</p><p>"Nothing in the web," Dre confirms. Riko's peeking over the edge, watching the streets below, but hasn't signaled. "Oh wait, one thing on the web. Seismic activity in Markovia. That's relevant, right?"</p><p>Duke grunts a maybe. Might be, or might not be. Everything's happening really fast. Too fast, really. He'd love to sit down with Dick and talk it out, only Dick's apparently gone back to the manor already to escort some kind of <em>guest.</em></p><p>The fact that Dick didn't mention who the guest was doesn't bode well. Probably someone criminal, whose identity he doesn't want to mention for fear of incriminating himself.</p><p>Not like that's an issue. Their communications are <em>excruciatingly</em> secure. Sometimes too much, if the number of times Riko has been locked out accidentally is any indication.</p><p>"We're in the right place," Z confirms. "Within this block is where the signal originated."</p><p>"Spread out, everyone take a corner, and yell if you see anything," Duke instructs, and the group fans out.</p><p>It's still a little bit weird operating in daylight. Most of their stuff happens at night, and while they <em>do </em>work during the day, it's not nearly as common. It feels like they're exposed, even though realistically no one's peeking around Bludhaven's rooftops.</p><p>"Here!" Dre calls. "Clothes down below."</p><p>Shug stays on the roof to keep watch while the rest of them take a fire escape down.</p><p>Dre's discovery is hard to miss. There's a set of black clothing just sprawled out in the middle of the alley, vaguely human shaped but lacking any sort of actual body. There's no blood either, which makes the whole thing... confusing. It's like someone dropped an entire spare set of clothes, shoes included, and went out of their way to arrange them in the shape of a body.</p><p>"...Weird," Riko says, speaking aloud what they're all thinking. There's a second pile of clothes, this one more bunched up, just behind a dumpster. Like someone's been hunched up, only they're now gone.</p><p>"So they... teleported here with their clothes, and then teleported back without them?" Duke muses. It's hard to take things completely seriously, because the whole situation is just <em>odd.</em></p><p>Dre's also the first one to find the world's most obvious clue, waving them down to the far end of the alley. A door—probably leading to a storage room—has been forced open, the lock broken.</p><p>Recent, Duke suspects. He knocks against the wall and looks to Z.</p><p>"Bookstore," she answers, catching his drift. "I'd guess this leads into the storage room. Probably staff used to smoke out here."</p><p>It doesn't smell like smoke and doesn't seem particularly well-used, which gives Duke hope that whoever they're after hasn't run into anyone. He takes point, leading the others inside. There's a hallway wrapping around out of sight to the left, and then another door, already open, leading down into a basement.</p><p>Duke follows his instincts and heads down.</p><p>He knows they've found their target before he even lays eyes on them. There's three more stacks of clothes leaning against a wall beside each other, and the soft sound of heavy and labored breathing. The lighting in the basement is dim, lit only by two thin windows near the top giving it some ambient light, and the light hasn't been turned on at all.</p><p>There are tendrils of something like smoke near the ceiling, but no obvious smell.</p><p>"You're hurt, aren't you?" Duke calls, waiting for a response.</p><p>It's a safe bet. The clothes with people missing. The gentle curls of black smoke near the ceiling. He has a very vague and general idea of what he's getting into, but even that small and limited understanding is enough for him to get the idea. He isn't being attacked because they're hiding. And they're hiding because they're hurt.</p><p>There's a soft noise, and Duke creeps across the storage room, peeking behind a shelf and finding what he's looking for.</p><p>His counterpart has undeniably seen better days. His clothing is plain and fairly similar to the piles they found, darkly colored and lacking any sort of logo or other distinguishing marks. He looks, for the most part, completely human, save where his skin has cracked open, letting small trails of a smokey substance leak out towards the ceiling.</p><p>His eyes are the most jarring. They're pure, inky black, seemingly sightless as the other Duke stares towards him.</p><p>Duke's pretty sure he's dying.</p><p>"Yeah," the other Duke croaks after a moment. "Guess I am. The others are... they're already gone, aren't they?"</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Duke can see Z inspecting one of the piles, retrieving what looks like a piercing from the ground and holding it up.</p><p>It matches her own.</p><p>"They're gone," Duke confirms. "Back to wherever you guys came from."</p><p>"Just dead," the other Duke says simply. "This isn't a going back thing."</p><p>They're silent for a moment, and the others end up clustered just behind Duke, obviously trying not to crowd, but also wanting to see. They keep peeking out from behind the shelf, but the other Duke doesn't respond.</p><p>Duke waves his hand, and there's no response to that, either.</p><p>"...You can't even see me, can you?"</p><p>The other Duke shakes his head.</p><p>"Too bright," he confirms. His eyes obviously aren't meant for seeing in light at all. Duke can't begin to imagine how they work, and he doubts he'll be getting any answers. "You should get it over with."</p><p>"I'm not going to kill you," Duke says after a moment. "That's not what I'm about, and it's not what I'm here for."</p><p>"You should be. You get rid of me, and you're safe."</p><p>"Yeah, well, I don't really know much about that," Duke admits. He pauses, then opts to sit, giving his counterpart space. It's probably a bad idea to sit at all, but his counterpart doesn't seem hostile... just pained.</p><p>"Oh," the other Duke says. His voice seems to waver, and Duke can't decide if that's what he sounds like, or if it's his dying body doing something <em>odd.</em> "No one told you the rules?"</p><p>"That's a no," Riko says from above Duke, and the other Duke's head snaps up, obviously trying to see someone that's beyond his range of vision.</p><p>"My friends are here," Duke clarifies. "You were with them too? Dre and everyone?"</p><p>There's a small nod, and the other Duke turns his head, looking vaguely in the direction of the closest piles of clothing.</p><p>"They came through with me. They followed me because they trusted me to lead them. Now they're dead. This place is... hostile to us."</p><p>"The light?" Dre guesses, and gets a nod in return. Apparently his counterpart has given up any possible hope of living, because he doesn't hesitate to explain, in essence, how to kill him.</p><p>"This world has too much. I don't know what happened to make things different, but our world is... it's not like this. There's not so much light."</p><p>A part of Duke wants to know. He wants to know what the other world was like. Wants to know how it all worked. Why is it that light kills them? Why does it... what, crack their <em>selves?</em></p><p>But his doppelganger is running on borrowed time, and there are more important things to ask about.</p><p>"Why did you even come? We weren't trying to hurt you or anything."</p><p>They've been invaded, and there has to be a <em>reason.</em> Duke doubts that they're all from the same place—not if even existing on their world is enough to kill them—but there has to be something behind it.</p><p>"Our worlds are dying. We were offered a chance to save them. Come here... kill our counterparts so we can take their place..." He pauses, gesturing to Duke. The gesture itself is too much, another crack forming and more of the inky-black smoke leaking out. "As long as you exist, I can't stay. Right now, the anchor's keeping us here, but the moment that's gone, anyone who hasn't killed their counterpart will get put back."</p><p>The rate of decay appears to be speeding up, and the other Duke's words are becoming more and more pained. He's clearly suffering, but he's putting on a brave face. He's trying to help, even if he came over for the wrong reasons.</p><p>"What's the anchor?"</p><p>"Orb of... space, I guess. You won't be able to miss it."</p><p>"But how did—how did you—" Duke stops himself. How much longer can he keep it going? How much more can he ask?</p><p>Instead, he asks something so much more important.</p><p>"What can I do to help?"</p><p>The other Duke offers a little smile, raising his hand and holding it out to Duke.</p><p>"Same thing that let me come out on top can be my undoing. Just use your power and... finish my off."</p><p>There's a level of gut revulsion Duke has to <em>finish me off,</em> only it almost immediately wars with <em>use your powers. </em>He doesn't take the outstretched hand, staring at it in obvious confusion for a long moment.</p><p>"I don't know what you mean. I don't have any powers."</p><p>The other Duke's face scrunches, confused, and then he shakes his head.</p><p>"You've got them, even if you don't know them. Just... here."</p><p>He beckons, and Duke hesitates just for a moment. He probably shouldn't. It's probably a bad idea.</p><p>But the man in front of him who shares his face is <em>dying,</em> and if Duke can help, he's going to. He reaches out, wrapping his hand around his almost-enemies own, and gives it a squeeze.</p><p>If he can comfort him as he dies, then coming here was worth it.</p><p>Or it would be, in theory, if the other Duke didn't squeeze his hand right back. Something happens, something strange and alarming, and Duke swears he feels something pushing <em>into</em> the skin of his hand. When he looks down, there's darkness flowing up his arm, shadows that look entirely out of place as they move.</p><p>The other Duke's mouth twists into a smirk.</p><p>"Better hope you do, or you aren't making it out of this basement either."</p><p>His arm is pure agony, the pain spreading as rapidly as the shadows. Riko yells something and Z grabs him by the shoulders, hauling him back. The ceiling lights flick on, and the dim half-lighting is suddenly far, far too bright. Duke's eyes squeeze shut just as the other dude across from him expires, falling to pieces and dissolving into nothing.</p><p>He doesn't have time to think about them. The shadows spreading over his body are undeterred by the light, and even the alarmed shouts of the rest of his team are starting to feel farther and farther away.</p><p>He feels like he's sinking into himself, the sensations confused and alien, a struggle for his brain to process. The shadow is flowing into him, forcing him to choke it down, and Duke knows he doesn't have much time. There's a meaning to what's happening. A purpose.</p><p>His insides start to burn. It's not the same sort of pain the shadow is inflicting on him, but something else entirely. A warmth that turns burning hot, and yet never actually hurts. Duke rolls in place, vomiting up the smoke involuntarily. It never even reaches the ground, spiraling upwards the moment he chokes it up, but it keeps on coming.</p><p>He has enough presence of mind to hear Dre asking what the <em>fuck</em> is going on, but not enough to answer. The smoke keeps coming, the pain giving way to the fire that never quite burns him.</p><p>And then he coughs <em>that</em> up too.</p><p>Duke's vision whites out. Everything, for that matter, whites out.</p><p>And then it's over, just like that. Duke collapses to the floor, panting but very suddenly in no pain at all as he stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out what in the holy hell just happened.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Clark / 1:00</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His mother always told him that trouble comes in threes, and that fact has never been more true.</p><p>The real problem is figuring out where he's even supposed to start counting.</p><p>Dealing with the other Tara Markov doesn't <em>feel</em> like trouble. She's dangerous, but only on the ground, and he takes her out of the picture (and well away from Earth) easily enough. Khalid appearance up near where the air is so thin humans can barely breathe is surprising but helpful, and once Khalid's used magic—magic he <em>absolutely </em>didn't have when he left Gotham—to temporarily seal her and bring any possible danger to a halt, things seem like they're over.</p><p>Khalid doesn't stick around, enigmatically informing the group he has <em>things to do,</em> and then he's gone before he even bothers to explain.</p><p>Only they're just starting.</p><p>There's no question about handling things the legal way, so Clark simply produces two of the Kandorian carriers and loads the team up. Soranik flies as a defensive guard, with Siracca, Jackson, and Thad on one carrier, and Mia, Damian, Tanya, and the injured Tara Markov on the other.</p><p>They'll fly over the ocean, get back to Gotham, and hopefully not get jumped by anyone on the way over.</p><p>They've barely reached the ocean itself when Soranik is forced to go. Her explanation is... <em>confusing</em> at best, but Clark gets the impression that <em>someone</em> in space has just been attached by a giant yellow monster, and it's an all hands on deck situation. She says her goodbyes to the team, and then she's gone, leaving them down one heavy weight fighter.</p><p>Clark really wishes she'd have gotten to stay.</p><p>Every minute that ticks by feels like an eternity. He's getting sporadic updates on the situation, and what he hears isn't good. There's reports coming in from all over: Roy's made it back to Central City and is taking up defensive positions with Iris and the boys while dealing with a particularly aggressive version of Wally. Michael and Joey report in that they've killed one version of Ivy and found, in their terms, <em>a very large seed.</em> Dick's found a potential ally and is on his way to the manor.</p><p>The manor's going to be very, very busy.</p><p>"Dad?" Jon calls, and Clark glances to him before following Jon's gaze. Well in the distance, Clark can see it: a blot of dark blue, contrasted with bright red.</p><p>His counterpart, come to bring the fight to him.</p><p>Clark stops flying, holding the carrier out for Jon to take. It's going to be difficult for him to balance two—the carriers are very, very wide—but there isn't another option.</p><p>"Jon? The moment one of us throws a punch, I want you to fly as fast as you can back home. Don't stop, and do <em>not</em> come back."</p><p>He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to have to send his son away while he stays behind to fight someone who might actually be able to kill him.</p><p>But he doesn't want Jon to get hurt, either.</p><p>"Dad—"</p><p>"Jon." He leaves no room for argument, and Jon hesitates a moment before taking the carrier from Clark's hand. They hold position, watching as the blur rapidly grows and grows, heading right for them. The details become easier to pick out: the same suit, the same cape, the same symbol. Some of the other versions looked significantly different, but this one looks damn near identical. As they get closer, Clark feels a spike of fear.</p><p>They're not <em>almost</em> identical. They <em>are</em> identical. The same costume. The same look. They might as well be identical twins, and he doubts that even Jon could tell them apart. Is that what's going to happen? Is his counterpart going to try and kill him and then <em>pretend to be him?</em></p><p>"Lets talk," his counterpart calls down.</p><p>Clark pauses, and then glances to Jon. He doesn't say anything, confident Jon will understand the look anyway, and then flies upwards to be face to face with his counterpart. He's close enough Jon can hear anything that might be important, but far enough away to be out of an <em>immediate </em>attack range.</p><p>"I feel like I should start by saying I'd prefer not to have to do this at all. My hands are tied."</p><p>Clark isn't going to let that stand.</p><p>"Our hands are never as tied as we think. There's always another option." That feels like the entirety of his career: thinking he can't do it and finding a way anyway. He's never let anything stop him before, and he can't imagine why his other self is.</p><p>"Not in this case. If I don't put you down, the moment the anchor breaks I get dropped back to my own world, and I doubt that it'll take you long to find it."</p><p>Clark narrows his eyes. An 'anchor'?</p><p>"Either way, I wanted to be clear that I'd do right by you. There's danger coming—an enemy that you're not going to be able to beat. In my world, we lost. In my world, everyone that I cared about died."</p><p>As he explains, Clark realizes the one thing he's <em>not</em> doing: he's not looking at the kids. It's like he can't bring himself to look at Jon at all. Clark feels a stab of frustration and anger, gritting his teeth before interrupting.</p><p>"And now you've come here, at the behest of who-knows-who, all to kill <em>me</em> and take <em>my </em>family. That's not justice, and you damn well know it."</p><p>"It isn't," the other Clark agrees. "But I'm doing the best I can under the circumstances. If there was a way to deal with it—"</p><p>"You could just <em>tell me</em> what the issue is, and then <em>I'll</em> deal with it," Clark points out, but his counterpart has obviously already thought of that, shaking his head.</p><p>"There's too many variables. You haven't fought them like I have. You don't have the training, and it's not as simple as telling you where it all starts. I know you won't stand down and let me stay, but I still would prefer to do right by you. I won't pretend I'm you—I won't try and... trick your family like that. I'll even help you escort the kids back to safety. I'll give you time to say goodbye. But then I'm sorry, but I need to be the one who walks away."</p><p>Clark knows he should be happy that, at a minimum, he's not going to have to worry about the kids, but it's hard to feel happy about any of that.</p><p>The other Clark gestures the way they were flying.</p><p>"One advantage of travelling like this—their counterparts, for the most part, will have come through near where they were. You're crossing an entire ocean, and unless they have a way to cross it on their own, you'll be hours ahead of them."</p><p>"You can tell where we are, I assume." A simple enough guess. How else would this Clark have found him over the <em>ocean,</em> not near any landmarks?</p><p>The other Clark nods.</p><p>Clark doesn't like it, but it's still, at least right then, the best case scenario. They can head back to the manor. Get help. Khalid's magic might be able to assist, or maybe someone else. </p><p>Either way, it's better than trying to fight over the ocean with the entire Teen Titans and an injured girl behind him.</p><p>He hesitates, then drops down, taking one of the carriers from Jon, who stares at him hesitantly. Jon looks afraid, and Clark hesitates before reaching forward, pulling Jon into a one-armed hug, even if it <em>does</em> jostle the carriers against each other.</p><p>"It'll be fine," he says. "We'll work something out."</p><p>The flight to Gotham is mercifully uneventful, but the constant presence of his counterpart is like a sword hanging over them. No one talks, the team quiet as they remain close to one another.</p><p>The other Clark seems surprised when they don't head into Metropolis, skipping right past it on the way to Gotham, but it's Clark who gets the biggest surprise as he angles in to land on Bruce's lawn.</p><p>One minute it's empty, and then, when he's about ten feet from the ground, there's a flash and <em>Barry Allen</em> zips into place, staring up at him.</p><p>"Clark! Thank god, I've been looking for you—"</p><p>He falters, noticing the other Clark, who is thankfully <em>not</em> coming in for a landing, and then glances between the two desperately.</p><p>"Uh—"</p><p>It's hard not to come to the obvious conclusion. Barry Allen is <em>dead,</em> which means the person in front of him <em>isn't</em> Barry: it's his counterpart, who's trying to do exactly what Clark feared <em>his</em> counterpart would be doing.</p><p>And Barry is <em>impossibly</em> dangerous, which is why Clark acts as fast as he does.</p><p>"Our Barry is dead!" He calls, and then <em>tosses</em> the carrier into the air. The other Clark seems to understand immediately, dropping down to catch the carrier as the poor Titans let out a few screams of surprise, and Clark drops, aiming to take Barry off guard.</p><p>He's not so lucky. Barry zips backwards, moving out of range of Clark's swing, holding his hands up.</p><p>"Woah! Wooooah!" He yells, and his lack of attempt to counter is enough to make Clark hesitate, which of course gives Barry <em>more</em> than enough time to shout an explanation.</p><p>"I'm not one of the bad ones!" Barry protests, which doesn't really <em>clarify </em>things, but already Clark's alarm is starting to fade away. He knows things could turn quickly, but he's not quite willing to try and jump Barry without a good reason now that he's calmed down. "Really, I'm not," Barry adds, looking <em>very </em>concerned that Clark is going to do exactly that.</p><p>"Then how are you here at all?" The other Clark deposits the carrier on the ground, taking up a position just beside Clark. For the moment, at least, he's a... weird ally. A very, very weird ally who's apparently planning to kill Clark when they're done. "The only people who should have come through are the candidates and their supporters, and <em>Barry Allen</em> isn't going to be a supporter."</p><p>Okay. That seems like <em>very </em>relevant information to Clark, only he doesn't get a chance to ask for clarification, because Barry holds his hands up.</p><p>"I'm not either. I'm not from the whole evil universe thing at all. I'm from a completely different <em>normal</em> world. All this stuff that's happening happened on my world, and we only barely managed to stop it, so I came here to try and make sure you guys weren't going to get almost wiped out like we were."</p><p>Clark narrows his eyes. So to, for that matter, does his counterpart.</p><p>Or his <em>candidate,</em> he supposes.</p><p>"So you just... came to help?"</p><p>"I realize this probably looks suspicious, but I really am just here to help. I don't know what happened to your Barry, but I'm <em>really</em> hoping—"</p><p>"Clark, what the fuck is going on?" Slade bellows from the entrance of the manor. He appears to have <em>borrowed</em> Will's sword, and he's back in his old Gotham Knight gear, save for the helmet which he apparently hasn't bothered to put on. "Is that <em>Barry?"</em></p><p>Clark lets out a frustrated noise, reaching up to run his hand through his hair.</p><p>"Okay, can we all just agree no one's killing anyone else until we've figured out what's going on? Yes?"</p><p>"I mean, I'm not killing anyone period," Barry says, sounding ever so slightly confused by... well, the whole thing. "I'm assuming he's also helping?" He points to the other Clark, and Clark lets out a frustrated sigh.</p><p>"Of sorts," Other-Clark says. "I plan to help this world as best I can once I get my own affairs in order."</p><p>Barry squints, glancing between the two of them before focusing on Clark.</p><p>"I... he's the evil one, right? He's going to try and kill you, isn't he?"</p><p>"That's the idea," Clark confirms, and Barry frowns up at the other Clark as if a firm lecture is going to set him in order.</p><p>It doesn't.</p><p>The Titans have spilled out of their carrier, leaving the three of them on the lawn as they head to the house. There are a <em>lot</em> of people arriving, and apparently a lot to talk about, but right then Clark can be at least reasonably sure that neither Barry nor Other-Clark are going to try and kill anyone off the bat. Maybe he's being too trusting, but if he acts with the appropriate level of skepticism they're never going to get anywhere.</p><p>"Lets get inside," Clark says, waving to the manor. "And then I think you've <em>both</em> got a lot of explaining to do."</p><p>Understatement of the decade.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Damian / 1:15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It is obvious to Damian from the very beginning that Thad is uncomfortable. From the moment they set down on the lawn and see Barry—alive and in the flesh, even if he's not the same person—Thad's discomfort radiates off him in waves. He makes himself scarce as both Clark's negotiate, and the rest of the Titans linger a bit longer before heading up to the manor, the danger apparently past.</p><p>At least for the moment, anyway.</p><p>There's still more danger coming, and that becomes painfully obvious when Damian crosses the threshold to find the main hall of the manor absolutely packed.</p><p>There are the Titans, of course, who came along with him. Era floats above the gathering, observing silently. Jonathan Kent is present, but the rest of the Kents aren't. Joey is missing, but Jason, Will, and Thomas are conversing on the far side. Slade's with them, and he splits off, heading towards Damian. Barbara and Tim are there, talking with Dick and Dax, but there's another figure standing just off to the side, an older man in green and gold, wearing an ornate Anubis mask. It's impossible to miss the sort of League finery he was raised around, and yet no one seems particularly alarmed by his presence.</p><p>Slade, to Damian's <em>intense</em> displeasure, simply scoops Damian up like he weighs nothing at all, and Damian sputters in his arms.</p><p>"This is a serious event," he protests as quietly as he dares. "People are watching!"</p><p>"They can deal. Everyone's safe?"</p><p>"Clark's outside. There's another Clark who's apparently going to kill him later, and Barry's outside too."</p><p>Slade's expression shifts, suddenly much more serious.</p><p>"Should have known we'd get a Clark," he grumbles, giving Damian another squeeze before finally letting him down. He doesn't move from Damian's side as the Clarks join them, Barry trailing after them as he gawks not just at the people gathered, but the house.</p><p>"Hold on, isn't he supposed to be dead?" Dick asks, gawking at Barry. Damian's more focused on the reaction: the masked man dips his hand under his robe, no doubt going to the handle of his sword.</p><p>"Not that Barry," Barry replies, holding his hands up to show he's unarmed as if that would somehow <em>matter</em> when he can move faster than any of them can react. "I'm from another dimension."</p><p>"He's not from a world like ours," one of the Clark's says. They're <em>identical,</em> and only context tells Damian which is which. "Supposedly he's from a world where this has already happened."</p><p>"This is nice and all, but can someone start from <em>the start?" </em>Barbara interrupts. "Where's Bruce?"</p><p>"I've got him," Will calls, heading over to the security panel. There's a screen hidden in one of the walls, and Will flips it out, fiddling with the buttons until Bruce's face appears.</p><p>In the background, one of the twins is wailing, and Bruce grimaces.</p><p>"Hasn't settled down since we went into lock down," he explains, fiddling with settings to minimize the noise. "Are we missing anyone?"</p><p>"Khalid's on his way back with Cassandra and Yen," Slade confirms. "We probably shouldn't wait up. What about your side of things?" He turns, looking to Tim, who responds almost automatically.</p><p>"Stephanie was going to be late, so we've redirected her," Tim explains. "She's heading to meet up with Joey and Michael in the south of Gotham."</p><p>"What are they doing <em>there?"</em> Clark asks, glancing back towards the door. "Weren't they on their way?"</p><p>"We're going out of order," Bruce interrupts. "One of the people who <em>actually</em> knows whats going on should be explaining things. Decide among yourselves."</p><p>The other Clark scans the room, his eyes settling on the masked man. They don't quite talk, and they don't quite exchange looks, but after a moment Clark opts to explain.</p><p>"I'll put things as simply as I can, since we're having a time crunch. You're all familiar with the fact that there are a large number of worlds, each with their own unique differences," the other-Clark starts, only to be interrupted by Will letting out a snort. Other-Clark scowls at him, expecting further interruption, and when he doesn't get one, he forges onward. "There's another layer to it. Some worlds—dark worlds—are created inherently wrong. No matter what happens, they'll fall apart. They'll reach the worst possible options. They're flawed. The candidates were... scouted, I would guess, from our own worlds. In most cases, it seems like our worlds were already beginning to fall apart, or were long overdue to do just that. The man behind this—"</p><p>"Who?" Slade interrupts. "It was a man?"</p><p>"British accent. Pretty sure it was a man, but I didn't get much beyond that. They weren't really <em>there. </em>Hard to explain, but I got the impression they weren't even on my world, just... broadcasting."</p><p>"The rules," Bruce prompts.</p><p>"Simple enough. Candidates are recruited. We're given the offer. We come here, we... terminate our counterpart, and then we get to stay when the anchor is destroyed."</p><p>"Anchor?" Barbara prompts.</p><p>Clark opens his mouth to answer, but is interrupted by Bruce.</p><p>"Khalid, Yen, and Cassandra just arrived," he says, apparently checking the cameras. "Can someone—"</p><p>"Got it," Thad says, zipping to the door. He's clearly avoiding Barry, going well around him as he heads outside. The group's clearly unsure about whether or not they should be waiting, but either way they don't have long to wait, with the new arrivals entering more or less immediately. Yen goes straight for Clark, stopping short when he spots two, and Clark—the real Clark—has to wave him over, checking in with him quietly.</p><p>Cassandra scans the room and says nothing, and after a moment Slade gives Damian a <em>look.</em></p><p>Damian knows what it means, and he nods, letting Slade break away to go check in on her.</p><p>"We're on a schedule," Bruce reminds everyone, but Damian gets the impression he's keeping a too-close eye on the camera. "The anchor?"</p><p>"It's an orb," Other-Clark says, holding up his hand and miming holding something about as big as a golf ball. "It's what's holding us here. I'm not sure of the specifics."</p><p>"I am," Khalid says. His voice doesn't sound quite right—it's as if there's an echo, a voice overlapping his. "The state of the wider multiverse is in flux. Things aren't behaving as they should be. Flawed worlds aren't degrading as they should, but instead staying around long past their natural lifespan. The being who should be fixing all of this is instead waging war, attempting to reshape the multiverse even as we speak. What's happening here is only a small part of what's happening all across the multiverse. Every world is affected in their own way. Some are being wiped out whole-cloth. Others are being reshaped."</p><p>Khalid waves his hand, and like magic—in fact, <em>literally</em> magic—an image appears between them. Worlds, like stars, glowing in a void, and something glittering and ethereal stretched out below them.</p><p>And a hole in the ethereal fabric, leaking something dark and foreboding.</p><p>"The multiverse should be separated from the failed worlds completely, but something punctured it some time ago. The results of that puncture have been felt elsewhere, but this world has been isolated from them, protected by Nabu's magic. That magic has now failed."</p><p>"Leading to the game," Other-Clark says. "That's what they called it—their words, not mine. They sent in an emissary with the anchor. So long as the anchor is still intact, candidates and their supporters will continue to pour in. I'd assume that candidates were being brought in based on threat level: the fact that the Justice League were attacked first doesn't seem like much of a coincidence."</p><p>Siracca makes a small noise, reaching up to cover her mouth as she shrinks back, trying to avoid drawing attention to herself.</p><p>Bruce is as gentle as he can manage.</p><p>"Siracca? You had something to say?"</p><p>"I just... wasn't sure if Diana was okay."</p><p>"I'm in contact with the rest of the League. All of them are dealing with their own problems, and I'm relaying information as we gather it. I'll want everyone to check in on who they have or haven't run into so far once we're done, but as far as I'm aware, no one's been killed. We did... briefly lose contact with Arthur, but he's since resumed contact."</p><p>Jackson lets out an audible sigh of relief.</p><p>"Supporters?" Slade prompts Other-Clark. "Bane mentioned capturing others."</p><p>It's a sign of how serious the situation is that he doesn't hesitate in mentioning Bane's name, even with so many people in the room.</p><p>"Most candidates would have come through alone. Some traveled in pairs, or even small groups. Some would have... tagged along, I suppose it's best described as. Their fate is tied with whoever they came along with, so the fact that Bane's already dealt with means they're not really any threat. If someone comes through who's dead here, that would mean they'd have to be a supporter for someone else."</p><p>Dick clears his throat, looking pointedly towards the man in the mask.</p><p>No one's said who he is, but the fact that he's with the League is painfully apparent. He's just <em>there,</em> existing and throwing everything off, and Damian feels deeply uncomfortable. Sure, things have been happening fast, but surely not <em>that</em> fast?</p><p>"Wait," Slade interrupts, squinting between Dick and the masked man. "Do you think he's Ra's? Is that what the whole glaring thing is about?"</p><p>The man—obviously not Ra's—stiffens.</p><p>"I called him Ra's," Dick says. "He didn't correct me."</p><p>"That's because Ra's is a title," Damian says after a moment's hesitation. "The Demon's Head. It's a title as much as a name—any successor of Ra's would take the title as well."</p><p>Slade turns, giving the masked man his full attention.</p><p>"You're obviously Damian. I don't know why you're bothering with the mask."</p><p>Deep down, Damian recognizes that he must have always known. He <em>was</em> Ra's al Ghul's heir. If anyone, it would be him to take up the mantle. To head the League.</p><p>But facing it is something else entirely. The man—the <em>other Damian</em>—raises his hand and removes the mask. He's older, probably in his mid-twenties, and more than anything looks tired. It's a strange insight into what he might one day look at, and Damian finds himself unable to look away.</p><p>"I'm surprised you recognized me," Damian—no, <em>Ra's</em>—says.</p><p>"I'd recognize my son damn near anywhere."</p><p>Ra's makes a face, and it's little question why. Obviously he didn't have Slade in his life. Obviously, his life was much different.</p><p>"Maybe you could explain the rules you were given, Damian," Bruce says, only to be corrected immediately.</p><p>"Ra's is fine. The rules I was told were consistent with what Clark has passed on to you. We are tasked with killing our counterparts. The destruction of the anchor is expected, and marks a shift. Once the anchor is removed, any candidates who haven't destroyed their counterpart will be returned to their original universe. From there, the second stage will begin."</p><p>"I assume you mean a battle royale," Bruce says, and Ra's nods.</p><p>"Some will want to remake this world as they desire. Some simply want to stay for their own purposes. Those who wish to reshape things will inevitably try and destroy the other candidates."</p><p>"And you don't want to?" Dax asks, squinting at Ra's. Quite a few people seem to shift in place, as if getting ready to jump between Ra's and Damian.</p><p>"Obviously not," Damian snaps, irritated on his counterpart's behalf. "He's been here for quite some time already. If he wished to be rid of me, he'd have done so while everyone else was distracted with all these explanations. Clearly he's uninterested in doing so."</p><p>"My counterpart is correct," Ra's says simply. "My world was not a good one by any possible metric. It would be best if it faded away quietly. I accepted so I would be able to provide assistance, and ensure this world isn't wiped out by some rogue candidate with their own agenda."</p><p>Slade turns to the other Clark. He's not the only one, either. Quite a few people are looking towards him, and more every second.</p><p>"Allow me to be direct," Khalid says simply, still in his odd double-voice. "I have no intention of allowing you to harm this world's Clark Kent. I would prefer to save my magic to deal with the other Kryptonians who will no doubt attempt an attack at some point, but if necessary I will deal with you myself."</p><p>The other Clark suddenly looks <em>very</em> uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot.</p><p>"If I told you that I had a good reason for it?"</p><p>"There's not a good reason," Yen counters. "I'm not letting you kill my dad."</p><p>"This isn't something I'm choosing to do arbitrarily," Other-Clark says, his voice raising slightly. He's definitely not looking right at Yen, pointedly avoiding looking at him. "There's an invasion coming, and I'm not going to have the time to go over it all with you <em>also</em> while defending the manor and finding the anchor. If you want this world to have a fighting chance—"</p><p>"Oh!" Thad interrupts, and he zips forward, stopping just in front of the other Clark. "It's the Kryptonian invasion, right?"</p><p>A very confused, and very awkward silence follows.</p><p>"Ah," Slade says. "Your world lost when Zod invaded."</p><p>The other Clark opens his mouth to say something, and then seems to think better of it, closing it after a second. The silence is awkward, and Damian clears his throat, drawing attention away from the poor baffled man.</p><p>"I think we have things to talk about. Priorities."</p><p>"Damian's correct," Bruce says. "What do we <em>need</em> to know right now?"</p><p>It's Barry who answers.</p><p>"Once someone's candidate is dealt with, that's it. They're safe. Similarly, anyone who <em>isn't</em> from this universe should also be safe. So... take that as you will."</p><p>Bruce does. The plan, as it comes together, is painfully simple: minimize the risk of anyone going after those who can't defend themselves.</p><p>There is, in short order, a rapid shuffling of where everyone's going to be.</p><p>Those too young or too old to be of any real danger are priority number one, and protecting them is important. Jonathan, Martha and Lois coordinate with Alfred, taking Alex and the twins. Bruce and Slade are obviously nervous about the twins being out of their sight, but there's no question that both Bruce <em>and</em> Slade are high priority targets, and thus major sources of danger. Thomas goes with them, his presence a complete non-risk, and Cassandra and Yen are also assigned to protective duty, their counterparts seemingly out of the picture. Damian insists that the pets go with them, which involves a great deal of corralling, in particular with Dexter.</p><p>There's some debate about sending one of the Clark's with them, but Thomas is dismissive.</p><p>"You think we're going to need more than one Kryptonian? You need Clark here."</p><p>Their destination isn't far: a secure safe house on the far end of Gotham, out of way enough to attract minimal attention. Even if Clark won't be staying, it's him who gets sent to pick up Jackson from Jim Gordon, escorting him to what Damian's starting to think of as <em>the elderly and infant daycare.</em></p><p>Barbara poses a much more significant problem. Barbara is <em>very</em> pregnant, due in less than a month, but it's impossible to deny that at one point she was a serious threat. The likelihood of someone coming after her is high, and there's more debate than anyone would like before a solution is established: Barbara is simply moved into the now empty safe-room to help coordinate the way she always used to.</p><p>Dick and Dax opt to return to Bludhaven, wary of any late arrivals.</p><p>The Titans are also a problem. Most of them have families and mentors to return to, but mentors that are dealing with their own issues. As much as it's obvious Bruce would prefer to get them home, it simply isn't a possibility right then.</p><p>Or at least it doesn't seem to be.</p><p>"I could drop them off, you know?" Barry suggests in the middle of a very serious discussion. "Thad probably could to." He swing his head around, looking for Thad, only Thad's purposefully avoiding him.</p><p>"I can get dropped off," Jackson volunteers. "I'd like to get back and check in on Arthur." What he's heard is fairly basic, and Damian can tell he's worrying.</p><p>"Considering our counterparts are most likely in Egypt... I'd need to be dropped at work. I want to try and monitor what's going on, so I can give you some more... ah, detailed information than what Hosun's doing."</p><p>In the end, Barry handles Jackson and Tanya, and Bruce intervenes by <em>heavily</em> suggesting that Clark simply take Mia down to Central City to rendezvous with Roy. The reasoning is obvious enough: Barry doesn't seem to realize it, and doesn't react to Roy's name much at all, but Barry showing up on Roy's doorstep would be beyond jarring.</p><p>Tara, still unconscious, is relocated down to the vault with Barbara, the political situation too tense to risk trying to <em>return</em> her. There's news of major seismic activity in Markovia, and no one's willing to risk it right then.</p><p>Only Siracca remains behind. Getting to Themyscira isn't as easy as running down to Central City, and she's perfectly happy to stay where she is.</p><p>"I know Diana will be just fine," she says insistently. "I don't mind staying here to help."</p><p>By the time everyone's out, more than an hour has passed. Bruce, Slade, Will, Jason, Khalid, and himself remain behind from the manor. Clark, his counterpart, and all of Clark's boys save for Yen stand nearby. Barry and Ra's linger as well, comparing notes for what's to come.</p><p>And all the while, Damian becomes more and more paranoid.</p><p>It just doesn't seem right that they've gone so long uninterrupted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Barbara / 2:30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As far as world ending crises go, Barbara can't help but feel that this one is comparatively mild. There's no alien invasion looming overhead, no end of days on the horizon. The danger seems blessedly localized to the people who are actually <em>qualified</em> to deal with it.</p><p>There are, of course, innocent people in the line of fire. Her father seems like an obvious one, which is why Tim offers to go help relocate him to a place with a bit more <em>protection.</em></p><p>Barbara herself, on the other hand, feels like something else entirely.</p><p>Any other month, and she'd have been ready to fight without hesitation, but right then she's eight months into her second pregnancy, and anything as physical as <em>walking around the block </em>has been firmly ruled out by her doctor. She's the highest of high risk pregnancies, which only makes her bristle that much more when she's placed into the saferoom.</p><p>It's just her and Tara, who's still unconscious, and the isolation is throwing her off a bit. There's something ever so slightly surreal, because she's spent every moment since she arrived at the manor expecting some evil Deathstroke to burst through the wall and try and kill them all.</p><p>No one has.</p><p>In fact, while she's getting pretty regular updates about trouble everyone <em>else</em> is having, Gotham (and Bludhaven, for that matter) is doing pretty well. Tanya, now safely at work, is starting to feed Barbara the latest and greatest information. She's checking new arrivals against Bruce's database of information on heroes (and villains, for that matter), making sure people are being notified and help is being sent.</p><p>It's all just going really <em>well,</em> which is making her more and more nervous. There's the constant sensation that she's missing something, that there's some kind of greater meaning behind the fact that things aren't getting any worse. They're in a good position: Barry's come to help, and both Damian—Ra's—and the other Clark are there to help.</p><p>Even if Other-Clark seems to be perpetually on the edge of a breakdown as he comes to terms with his own impending mortality, he's at least willing to punch the appropriate people who need to be punched to keep Clark's family safe.</p><p>"What do you think they're doing?" Tanya asks over comms as she passes over the next batch of detail. "There's no way it's taken this long for evil Deathstroke to get there, right?"</p><p>Maybe if he drove the speed limit it would have taken them that long, but the odds of that are almost astronomical. Instead, it's almost guaranteed they must be doing something else. While the family was getting ready—</p><p>Barbara jerks in place, heart speeding up.</p><p>While everyone was getting ready, <em>Deathstroke was as well.</em></p><p>Even if it's just a theory, she doesn't hesitate to voice it, hopping onto the open comm line between the manor's various defenders and supporters.</p><p>"I think I know what he's doing."</p><p>"Well? Out with it," Slade replies automatically. She's sure the others are listening, but the line's supposed to be kept as clear as possible.</p><p>"The fact that the first batch rushed in and no one has since is... very noticeable. I think he's coordinating. There's probably an actual <em>plan</em> in place. I'm going to try and figure out how they're communicating."</p><p>"With me," Thad cuts in. "I'm not from this <em>time,</em> but I am from this <em>world.</em> There's probably a version of me running around."</p><p>"Or it could just be digital," Barbara points out, already starting her search. It's entirely possible...</p><p>She can't even finish the thought, already realizing her mistake. They've been so focus on the <em>physical danger</em> that they've given precious little thought to the other possible risks. What's to say there isn't a version of <em>her</em> doing <em>the exact same thing she's doing,</em> only for Deathstroke?</p><p>"Where would they go?" Barbara mutters to herself. "What's their target, if they want allies?"</p><p>Of <em>course.</em></p><p>"I'm checking Blackgate and New Arkham," Barbara says. "Neither is showing any issues right now, but I want to double check. I think it's possible they might have... well, a <em>me</em> running interference for them. It would explain why we haven't heard anything."</p><p>Not that there's nothing happening, but that they aren't <em>hearing</em> it. Barbara winds up holding her breath as she checks, flipping through all the access to Blackgate she has.</p><p>Everything looks normal. No alarms. No signs of trouble. She flips to New Arkham, but there's nothing there either.</p><p>Something tells her to keep digging, so she does in the most roundabout way she can think of: she digs around, finds the company that delivers food to both Blackgate <em>and</em> New Arkham, and checks to make sure they're on schedule.</p><p>Arkham is.</p><p>Blackgate <em>isn't.</em></p><p>"Delivery to Blackgate is having issues. They reported that they arrived, but no one came down to accept the shipment. They've been stuck waiting for ten minutes already."</p><p>"Nothing on the cameras?" Bruce asks. "At all? Any signs of looping?"</p><p>"Nothing I can see," Barbara replies. "Doesn't mean it's not there. Clark?"</p><p>"Got it. We're on our way to check it out."</p><p>Barbara fidgets as she waits, making herself stand and using the desk to help prop herself up. She runs through her exercises, the burn of her muscles grounding her, keeping her in the moment.</p><p>She wishes she wasn't so anxious. They have good allies. They'll come together. They'll figure it out.</p><p>A window pops up on the computer. Old school. It looks like an old school command line, but it clearly doesn't <em>operate</em> like one, because a message comes up almost immediately.</p><p>
  <em>This deal is for you and only you. No one else can see this. One of my conditions is that children aren't harmed, and since you're pregnant, I would count you as well. If you excuse yourself from the proceedings, you've got my word you won't be harmed.</em>
</p><p>Whether or not the deal is genuine or not, it gives Barbara a lot of information: that her counterpart (assuming it <em>is</em> her, that is) has access to the computer in the saferoom. That there is, in fact, a coalition. That she's being monitored.</p><p>So Barbara makes absolutely sure they know what she thinks of the offer. She flips the closest camera off with one hand and shoves her emergency flash drive into the computer.</p><p>Even if she wasn't expecting to have to force someone out of Bruce's system, she's not stupid enough to go anywhere unprepared. Her full suite of tools is ready for her, and she gets to work immediately. The first step is isolating the manner, cutting off all outside connections so that she can root any outsiders out of the system. The <em>second</em> is securing the comm lines, shifting to encryption that she's having to constantly adjust on the fly.</p><p>But handling the <em>computers</em> is only half the job.</p><p>"Everyone," she announces over the comms, "we have enemies in our system. I'm removing them, but I want everyone to go to fourth tier codenames."</p><p>"Oh goddammit," Slade mutters. "Fine."</p><p>The changeover is seamless. One minute everyone sounds like themselves and are using their real names, and the next Barbara's tweaked the communications so that everyone gets spit through a filter, incomprehensible and impossible to tell apart.</p><p>"Agent R reporting activity at site C. At least ten active hostiles, requesting assistance."</p><p>The perk of <em>fourth tier codenames</em> is that they're easy enough to remember: Everyone and everything just goes by the fourth letter of their name. There are some clashes and issues—Slade and Era are both <em>Agent D, </em>for one—but for the most part context makes it clear enough to use on short notice.</p><p>"Young Agent L, remain on location. Those who can easily make it to site C, do so. Young Agent D, remain at your current location."</p><p>It's probably Bruce calling the shots, but it's hard to tell: it's possible Bruce is communicating with the others out loud. For all Barbara knows, he's giving people instructions that are contrary to what he's just said. There's no telling, and that's the point. Khalid hasn't been briefed on everything, nor have Ra's or the other Clark, but someone's probably explaining it to them in person right then.</p><p>Either way, the idea is clear enough: everyone who <em>can </em>will head to Blackgate to deal with what's there.</p><p>Everyone else will hold firm, guarding the house in case it's a feint.</p><p>And Barbara? Well, she has more than enough work to do on her own. The system isn't going to secure itself, after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Roman / 2:30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman knows there's trouble even before someone comes to tell him as much. It's like a scent in the wind, a general feeling of foreboding. <em>Something</em> is going on, and when Trevino comes to bring him the news, Roman's all too eager to listen.</p><p>"Something's going on in the high security wing," Trevino tells him, leaning too far into Roman's space for comfort. Roman's eyes slide over, giving Trevino a <em>look,</em> and the other man gets the idea, taking a half step back as Roman's men settle around him.</p><p>They're out in the yard, one of the few advantages Roman's managed to gain by <em>playing nice</em> since his escape. Really, it's more corruption than anything: he should still be in maximum security, but he was willing to tell the police what he knew about Luthor's plan, and that got him a deal.</p><p>"If you want to curry my favor, Trevina," Roman says, purposefully fucking up Trevino's last name, "tell me something I don't already know."</p><p>Roman isn't a stupid guy. He can see the signs. Can tell there's something going on.</p><p>"Less guards on the walls," Roman points out. "Only one at the door. Should be two or three, at a minimum. They've been called elsewhere."</p><p>Trevino's face falls, his <em>good piece of information </em>all but worthless. He's not easily deterred though, sharing what else he knows.</p><p>"The guards are all heading down to the south end. Someone said there was a breach down that way."</p><p>The information is, at best, mildly useful, but he doesn't have the energy to berate Trevino for it, waving a hand to send him off. The situation is a tricky one, and Roman's already playing the angles, trying to figure out how he can benefit from it.</p><p>Assuming it <em>is</em> a riot, the answer is <em>probably not much. </em>Thanks to a certain bat-eared bastard, Blackgate is well prepared for any riots. They've got more funding than any other prison in the state, and plenty of little perks courtesy of Wayne Enterprises donations.</p><p>If it's <em>not</em> a riot, on the other hand... well, that's where there's potential. Depending on how it goes, he could use that to his advantage. If he helps the guards, he'll get additional privileges. If he works against them, he might be able to slip out in the chaos.</p><p>Roman's largely given up hope of reestablishing himself in Gotham. His only bet is to leave the state, and go where the swarm of bats won't find him. It'll mean giving up the reputation he's spent so long building up, but it's better than having to stare at Bruce Wayne's smug face even one more time.</p><p>"I'm going for a walk," he announces, standing up. The lackeys he surrounds himself with startle, but settle down, taking Roman's announcement for what it is: an invitation for them to fuck off and let him think. He paces the edge of the yard, being given a wide berth by the rest of the inmates, and ponders his options.</p><p>He makes it around the yard twice before something strange catches his attention. There's a door on the side of the building, not the one they enter through, but a locked one he's always assumed was for storage. Probably cleaning supplies when the yard needs to get cleaned up after a fight.</p><p>Only second time around it's ever so slightly open, and Roman is <em>damned sure</em> it wasn't before.</p><p>Someone's opened it, almost like they were waiting for him to pass nearby.</p><p>He sneaks a surreptitious glance behind him as he heads for the door, but no one seems to be paying him much attention. Probably for the best, because he doesn't hesitate to slip inside, closing the door behind him. When he turns, he finds himself in a hallway, and he's not alone.</p><p>Ten feet down the hall, Black Mask is waiting for him.</p><p>The mask is different, more angular and glossy than Roman's own, but it's still unmistakably <em>him.</em> The same body type, the same stance, the same body language. They're him, and Roman feels a rush of... <em>something</em> go through him.</p><p>Is he excited? Concerned? He genuinely can't tell. His feelings are all over the place, and it's hard to figure out his reaction to things.</p><p>"You're me," he says instead, because he's at least sure of that much.</p><p>"Obviously," Black Mask retorts. "Who else would put so much effort into getting you out? Come on." He gestures for Roman to follow, and Roman does, following him through what is undoubtedly an access hallway for staff.</p><p>Roman gets the impression they should be seeing a lot of staff, but he isn't. The hallways empty, although at points he can hear noise in the distance. Yells. Crashes. He's pretty sure he even hears a gunshot at one point.</p><p>"Who else is here?"</p><p>"My allies. We're... <em>retrieving</em> a few people from Blackgate. You were the only idiot who got himself moved, so you're lucky we didn't leave you behind. I had to <em>convince them</em> just to let me come get you."</p><p>Roman scowls at the idea of being left behind.</p><p>"I don't know why I should be expected to know you'd be coming to get me. What, are you from the future? Another dimension?" He's better on another dimension. If some jackass like Wilson is capable of having a doppelganger, Roman should be as well.</p><p>"Another dimension," Black Mask confirms, turning towards the high security wing of the prison. "This way. Hurry it up."</p><p>He isn't kidding about hurrying. Roman's damn near <em>running</em> to keep up as his counterpart follows a path only he knows through the prison. There's still no guards. Still no one, really, even when Black Mask leads him out a side door into an alley beside the prison. The air smells of garbage and rot, and Roman scowls, reaching up to cover his nose.</p><p>Great, they're leaving the same way as the prison's trash. Just what he needs: to smell like garbage <em>and</em> look like it.</p><p>"Here," Black Mask calls. There's a small cluster of people standing there, and it's that cluster that makes Roman slow, eyes darting over them.</p><p>No prison orange. If they were <em>retrieving</em> other prisoners, why is he the only one there? Something about the situation isn't right, and Black Mask falling in beside him and pressing a hand to Roman's back ushering him forward isn't helping.</p><p>"Oh, look who's back!" Someone calls, and Roman turns to find some bratty little blond kid staring up at him. He seems familiar, but it's hard to tell considering he's wearing comically over-sized goggles. "This is him?"</p><p>"This is him," Black Mask confirms, physically shoving Roman forward. He's made a mistake somewhere, Roman realizes. Something's gone wrong.</p><p>There's an older man with a mustache watching him, his outfit not unlike one Roman would wear: business wear with an underarm holster. He looks almost comically dressed down compared to the rest. The younger boy's in some kind of jumpsuit, and the person beside them is wearing a suit of high tech looking armor that hides every part of their body.</p><p>But it's the last man that ruins everything. Years ago he'd have said that there was no one on Earth he hates more than Bruce Wayne with the sole exception of Batman, but the discovery that they were one and the same made that a great deal easier. Bruce has been a thorn in his side for a long, long time, and Batman was much the same.</p><p>But that's <em>on Earth. </em>Bruce is far from the person Roman hates most <em>period.</em></p><p>Roman stares and stares, trying to process what he's seeing as Bruce Wayne stands before him, and apparently his dull horror is hilarious, because the last man tips his head back and starts to laugh.</p><p>It's a terrifyingly familiar noise. A noise that's haunted Roman's dreams for years. One that's impossible for him to ignore.</p><p>The man in front of him is Bruce Wayne, but he's also not. There's a tint to his hair, and his eyes are a vivid, bright green that Roman would hate anywhere.</p><p>The Joker's the person he hates the most, and now he's, somehow, <em>taken over Bruce Wayne.</em></p><p>"Looks like he's seen a ghost!" Joker-Bruce says, letting out another cackling laugh. "But really, Roman, as much as I'd love to ask him all sorts of questions, we <em>are</em> on a schedule. Where's Wilson?"</p><p>"Coming now," the older man says, his accent blatantly British. "Lets wrap things up."</p><p>"We just leaving Cobblepot and the others?" Black Mask asks. The answer is, of course, <em>obviously,</em> because they're disposable and he—or at least Black Mask—isn't.</p><p>"Of course," Joker-Bruce says. "Let the heroes go running around in a tizzy trying to mop them up while we get to work. Now Roman, if you please?"</p><p>There's a sharp pain in Roman's back, just to the right of his spine, and he makes a pained noise, gritting his teeth. He's not an idiot. He knows this whole thing was a setup. He's been stabbed, and he's probably going to be killed, but rage and righteous anger is driving him more than sense.</p><p>He lunges forward, grabbing the front of Joker-Bruce's shirt and dragging him forward as Roman tries to headbutt him.</p><p>The man in the armor is faster. He catches Roman's head in one armored hand, squeezing so hard Roman swears he can hear his skull start to crack as he's dragged back, physically hauled to the ground despite his attempts to at least <em>hurt</em> the bastard who ruined his life.</p><p>The last thing he gets to see is Black Mask looming over him, a bloody knife in one hand.</p><p>"How can you fucking—How can you <em>stand</em> to work with him after what he did to us?!" Roman snarls as he's pinned down.</p><p>The other Roman's answer is, if nothing else, painfully obvious. It's exactly what Roman himself would have said if it was anyone but the Joker.</p><p>"I always pick the winning side."</p><p>After that, Roman doesn't get to hear anything at all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Barbara / 2:45</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hacking isn't like it is in the movies. It's not fingers flying over keyboards in front of a command line. <em>Most</em> of hacking, realistically, is using what you already have. A lot of that is taking advantage of programs you've already installed on the target computer. Exploiting preexisting loopholes to get access.</p><p>Of course, all that is vastly inferior to what Barbara's learned is the biggest part of hacking: asking nicely.</p><p>Having programs that will let you brute force access into a policeman's email is hard. Copying down the information off a sticky note he keeps stuck to his work station is easy. Convincing people to hand over their personal information is easier than it should be most of the time, but it's still not as easy as <em>actually having that access already.</em></p><p>Which is why Barbara—sitting pretty in Wayne Manor—is at such an advantage.</p><p>Inevitably, it doesn't matter how great her opponent is, because Barbara has access they don't. The other Barbara—the other <em>hacker</em>—might spend twenty minutes bypassing a new firewall, but none of that matters if Barbara has someone physically disconnect the cable.</p><p>So she does exactly that. She gets Bruce to physically disconnect the manor from the internet, and then, in the five minutes where her opponent can't hope to access the system, deploys several new, heavy duty firewalls and security measures. From there, it's a game of cat and mouse: any time her opponent gets too close, Barbara simply disconnects, repairs the metaphorical damage, and gets Bruce to plug them back in.</p><p>It must be infuriating, but Barbara doesn't feel particularly bad about taking advantage of what she's got.</p><p>Someone—maybe Steve Trevor, but definitely someone in the DEO—has raised a red flag in the systems. It gives Barbara greater access and authority, and lets her skip out on trying to hack into things by simply calling up Blackgate and having them pass their security through to the League. What she gets is distinctly unhelpful: looped feeds and compromised values. According to the data, all the cells are locked, and haven't been opened for more than thirty minutes. Considering at least part of the prison should be out in the yard, that seems unlikely, and she turns her attention elsewhere.</p><p>The cameras might be useless, but the guards aren't. She manages to access the prison guard's frequency after some work, and what she hears is almost chaos. People are barking orders and, if she's hearing right, getting cut down, and it takes all her willpower to cut in and take some sort of control of the situation.</p><p>"This is Barbara Gordon on behalf of the League," she says, talking over someone who's begging for help. "The League is on its way with support. I need an actual situation report from whoever has the authority."</p><p>"This is a secure line—" Someone starts, and Barbara doesn't let them get any farther.</p><p>"Again, on behalf of the Justice League. We have reason to believe extra-dimensional criminals are attacking Blackgate, but we need more information."</p><p>Someone—whether they're actually in charge or not—opts to take control.</p><p>"We had... maybe ten or eleven people break into the prison through the front gate. They headed into the high security wing and from reports we've gotten have been focused on the prisoners. They're... they're all types, but some of them are familiar enough. There was a snake guy—"</p><p>Barbara's already flicking through files. <em>Snake aesthetic</em> isn't terribly unique, unfortunately. </p><p>"—And some guy who looked a lot like Deathstroke."</p><p>Well, that one's easier at least.</p><p>"Where are they now?"</p><p>"Some are still in the prison. One of them started—one of them is <em>eating</em> the prisoners. Any guard that gets close gets killed, but some of them seem to be missing. They might have already slipped away."</p><p>Got what they came for, most likely. Barbara's not stupid enough to believe that they were in Blackgate for the sake of being in Blackgate. They're there for a <em>reason,</em> and that reason is most likely 'to kill their counterparts'.</p><p>Why Slade, though? Deathstroke would have little to gain, and choosing to help an attack on Blackgate to help out his allies seems very... non-Sladey.</p><p>"Relaying information to the League," she says, and then does just that. Those who left the manor are already arriving at Blackgate, and the situation is an absolute mess. There are bodies and panicked guards, and when they get farther in, a great deal of panicked prisoners. The command room—the one that would let them <em>release</em> all the prisoners—has been taken over, and most of the prisoners remain firmly in their cells.</p><p>Some of them are dead because of that. Some of them, on the other hand, are very much alive, and begging to be freed.</p><p>Even so, their rescuers forge on. Releasing hundreds of Blackgates worst is a terrible idea, but Slade, advancing into the prison, makes a point of securing them anyway, letting the remaining Blackgate guards coordinate behind him. The choice to send Slade was obvious, considering the enemy can most likely track his movements, and its him who leads the assault.</p><p>The death toll is staggering, and Slade's nearly through the entire wing before he faces any real opposition. There are a variety of criminals there, some more obviously other-dimensional counterparts than others. Oswald Cobblepot, for example, is supposed to be an overweight crime lord. Instead, he's some kind of half-penguin mutant, his nose less beaklike and more an <em>actual beak. </em>He's hardly the only one, either: Copperhead, the <em>Snake guy</em> from earlier, is significantly less human than the woman Bruce help put away years ago.</p><p>On the other hand, some are almost indistinguishable from the incarcerated criminals they're trying to kill. One of Clark's boys reports in about spotting Cluemaster fleeing the prison, only to have Jason report in that he's found Cluemaster's corpse.</p><p>What they don't find, on the other hand, is Deathstroke.</p><p>From what Barbara manages to piece together, Deathstroke was leaving even as they were arriving. None of Clark's boys, flying patrol, catches sight of him leaving. They find traces and obvious signs he was there, but whatever he was after, he got it fast.</p><p>"Found Sionis by the garbage bins," Jason reports. "He's pretty far from where he should be. Looks like... stabbed in the back, literally, in this case."</p><p>"Any sign of anyone else?" Slade asks, and Barbara knows the answer before Jason says it.</p><p>"They're gone."</p><p>They've made a point of keeping the younger members away from the carnage. The last thing Thad, Damian, or Clark's boys need to see is a bunch of corpses. Even so, there's only so much that <em>can</em> be done, and when there's no obvious attack, the Kryptonians sweep the prison from the rooftops, searching for any further signs.</p><p>"Found out what they were after," Slade confirms with a grim tone. "There's basically no empty cells—they've either got prisoners or bodies in them, except one. Rose Worth isn't in her cell, and anyone close enough to be able to tell us what happened is dead."</p><p>"Why take her along?" Bruce asks, monitoring from his office. "Why not just kill her?"</p><p>The line is silent. For a long while, no one replies, either because no one has any ideas, or because they simply aren't willing to voice them.</p><p>It's Damian who finally breaks the silence.</p><p>"What if they took her for another reason?"</p><p>"To be a hostage?"</p><p>"Why?" Slade splutters, and Barbara gets the impression that he's pacing just from his tone of voice. "Why her? For fuck's sake, we've left her in Blackgate for a reason. Why would they take <em>her</em> as a hostage?"</p><p>"Because Bruce is a bleeding heart who'll help anyone," Jason says after a strained moment. "It doesn't matter who they take, and taking her is a surefire way to throw Slade off his game. The question is how they found out about her."</p><p>"...Wintergreen," Barbara says, sinking back into her chair. "I doubt they could have known about Cassandra. They probably went after Wintergreen to get information like that. Where everyone was. Who was vulnerable."</p><p>None of them like to think about it, but none of them are quite willing to discount the possibility, either. Wintergreen might not crack under pressure, but being tortured by another Slade...</p><p>That would crack anyone.</p><p>Barbara doesn't get the time to think about it, because an alarm goes off even as one of Clark's boys starts rattling off information. She never finds out which one—they don't bother to identify themselves, and they're not using code.</p><p>"There's a Kryptonian in the air over our house—"</p><p>"Khalid!" Clark isn't bothering with code either. All he says is that one word, and all Barbara can do is hope that Khalid's going to help as fast as he possibly can.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Damian / 3:00</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's hard not to feel sidelined being left at the manor. He has no ability to move quickly, and for a moment, Damian thinks that will mean a bit of privacy with his counterpart. They haven't had a chance to really <em>talk,</em> and while Damian's initially hesitant, he knows enough to know he wouldn't mind sharing a few stories with him.</p><p>Only his counterpart <em>doesn't</em> stay. A great red beast wearing a simplistic saddle emerges from the woods, completely unlike any animal Damian's ever seen, and Ra's simply mounts up and <em>flies out</em> like it's nothing significant.</p><p>Damian isn't alone, but right then he feels like it. Everyone has some kind of job. A <em>purpose.</em> Bruce is helping coordinate with the League in his office, and Will's standing guard nearby. Any risk against Damian is nearly inconsequential, leaving him without any need to be protected... while also not needing to be the <em>protector.</em></p><p>Above him, two of Jon's brothers circle. Well above <em>them,</em> one of the Clark's waits. Damian's too far away to tell which brothers they are, and even if Clark was right in front of him he wouldn't be sure which was which. The similarities are too blatant, only knowledge and reaction telling him enough.</p><p>Something blurs out of the forest behind the manor, shooting up towards the Kryptonian's above. Damian leaps to report it, but those being attacked already are.</p><p>Damian feels powerless. He stands on the grounds just outside the manor, watching in horror at the fight above.</p><p>The attacker—dressed largely in black with flashes of red, including a cape—doesn't <em>hit</em> their target so much as they <em>collide</em> with it. They sent one of the boys—Ren, Damian thinks, if the flash of red is right—spinning off wildly, trying to regain control even as the attacker pounces on the other.</p><p>Someone screams from above. Clark drops like a rock, speeding down towards the attacker, and Damian barely even has time to react as Era shoots past him, angling up towards the attack.</p><p>It's a mistake, Damian realizes. They're concentrating their powerhouses all in one place, trying desperately to hold them off until Khalid and his magic can arrive and turn the tide. Kryptonians fighting each other is a fools errand, like two icebergs crashing into each other over and over again. They're strong, yes, but they're more durable than anything.</p><p>Or that's the theory.</p><p>Clark is one of the strongest people Damian knows, and seeing him get hit so hard by a downward spike that he leaves a small <em>crater</em> in the lawn is alarming. The attacker—all black and red and blurring all over the damn place—is too fast.</p><p>Something else has to be going on, Damian realizes. The other side has been too careful, to strategic. For them to throw it all out in favor of throwing <em>brute force</em> at the situation?</p><p>No, something else is going on.</p><p>Damian backs inside and tries to listen carefully. Tries to <em>think. </em>What's the plan? Whats the idea? Something's happening and it's his job to figure out what. He can't fight on the level of a Kryptonian, but he can <em>think.</em> That's his job. That's what he's supposed to be doing.</p><p>Something blurs past him, and Thad stops in the middle of the room.</p><p>But not Thad. The outfits all wrong, more Kryptonian in nature than anything Thad has ever worn. Almost like what Zod's men were wearing when they attacked, which makes it painfully clear that the boy in front of him <em>isn't</em> Thad at all.</p><p>Damian has a batarang in his hand before he even has time to think about it. Thad—and his counterpart—are far faster than him, and if he gets attacked, he's going to have an impossible job of keeping himself safe.</p><p>"I <em>was</em> going to drop this off," other-Thad says, waving what looks like an envelope in one hand, "but you know what? Better plan." There's no security, Damian realizes. Other-Thad crossing the manor's boundaries won't even be picked up with the Kryptonians creating literal <em>shockwaves</em> from the strength of their blows.</p><p>The other Thad lunges, and Damian's very suddenly in the fight of his life.</p><p>Because Thad is, without even the tiniest bit of doubt, far faster than him, and even if Damian's probably a better fighter, speed means a lot. The first few blows he manages to deflect by a hair, and the moment the other Thad backs off even slightly, Damian attempts to radio a call for help.</p><p>It's a mistake.</p><p>Faster than he can even blink—and <em>absolutely</em> faster than the real Thad is—the other Thad is standing in front of him, Damian's earpiece in his outstretched palm.</p><p>"Oh, did you want this?" He asks, and any similarity he might have had with Thad is just <em>gone.</em></p><p>Thad would never look so vicious. He'd never go out of his way to torment someone like that. Damian knows he's already lost, but he at least <em>tries, </em>his hands at his sides to try and make it as obvious as possible he's not going to attack.</p><p>"I don't know why you're doing this, but we can help. We can figure out a way to fix things."</p><p>"Oh please. There's not a way to <em>help,</em> unless you're willing to cut your friends throat for me. The moment the anchor gets broken, I get slingshotted right back into my own personal hell, so excuse me if I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen by any means necessary."</p><p>"You're wrong," Damian says, his tone as firm as he can make it. It's a gamble, what he's doing, If it goes wrong, he could end up dead, but he clearly has the other Thad's attention. "He's my brother."</p><p>Damian squeezes the sonic capsule in his pocket, and it goes off.</p><p>It's <em>loud. </em>At point blank range, it pops Damian's eardrums, and the other Thad recoils back. That isn't the real purpose, though: the point is to draw help. To let them know Damian isn't alone.</p><p>All in the hopes that they'll be able to help.</p><p>But while those he's calling for help are fast, they're not fast enough. The other Thad completely stops playing around. All Damian can hear is his ears ringing, but he can <em>feel</em> it when the other Thad collides with him, sending him sprawling against the ground. He barely has time to register before he's scooped up, being hauled along faster than his eyes can register.</p><p>Damian's head is spinning, and it takes all he can to stay awake. Exhaustion is an anchor around him, threatening to drag him down despite his attempts otherwise. Everything is just too <em>fast,</em> and somewhere along the line Damian loses the contents of his stomach.</p><p>He's dumped, unceremoniously, on hard ground. Damian still can't hear, but he has the presence of mine to curl, protecting his most vulnerable parts.</p><p>He doesn't need to have bothered, because no one touches him, and when Damian looks up, he's completely alone: abandoned in the basement of what looks like a very old house, the only door up closed up tight.</p><p>But he has one single advantage, and that's enough to make Damian smile, still struggling to regain his balance: no matter where they've taken him, Ra's will be able to find him just the same.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Clark / 3:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clark doesn't wait at Blackgate. Whoever they were after is long gone, and the moment there's a distress call, Clark simply <em>takes off.</em></p><p>His boys are in danger, and Clark isn't going to let <em>anyone</em> hurt them.</p><p>Even before he leaves Blackgate behind, he can see what's happening in the distance. He has to watch, drawing ever closer, as their attacker spikes Ren down below the tree line, out of sight. He's going to be <em>hurt,</em> and if Clark doesn't get there soon enough, Gar will as well.</p><p>Kent drops down out of the sky, colliding with the black-and-red blur that's going after Gar, and from below, a blur that Clark's pretty sure is Era joins the fight. Everything is a mad, desperate clash, happening so quickly Clark's struggling to keep tabs on what's going on.</p><p>His first priority, when he reaches the grounds, are the boys.</p><p>Ren's still on the ground but looks to be picking himself up, and Gar's down there with him. Clark hits the ground just beside them, denting Bruce's poor lawn, and immediately looks them over.</p><p>"Broken arm," Gar says quickly.</p><p>"Lucky it's not more," Ren says. His voice makes it clear he's in a great deal of pain, but that's not necessarily a good indicator. As durable as they are, <em>anything</em> that they can feel must feel like a lot. "Go get her."</p><p>Clark shoots up to join the fight.</p><p>Up close, he can get a better feeling for the attacker. They're smaller and faster, but they're also, somehow, <em>stronger</em> in addition. Every time they hit, the person they hit gets launched back, leaving the trio a whirl of limbs as they exchange blows.</p><p>They're a woman, dressed all in black, but the red <em>S</em> symbol on their torso is impossible to miss in the same way that the tattered red cape is. They don't appear to be talking, letting out a guttural yell, and as Clark searches for a way to join the battle he realizes something important.</p><p>They're focused almost entirely on Era.</p><p>"Lois!" Kent yells, and only after a moment does Clark realize why.</p><p>He isn't yelling for Lois, off somewhere in Gotham safe and sound: he's yelling <em>who the attacker is.</em></p><p>Lois, except <em>somehow fighting beyond even a Kryptonian level.</em></p><p>"Incorrect," Era announces as he deflects a blow. "Our attacker is an Eradicator unit."</p><p>Lois or not, they let out another yell and hit Era <em>hard.</em></p><p>Something breaks. Era's entire arm seems to fall apart, the construct that makes up his physical form failing under the strain.</p><p>"Lois, stop!" Kent yells, trying to contain her. He catches one wrist.</p><p>Somewhere down below, a sonic goes off. Someone's in the manor. They're under attack. They almost definitely need help.</p><p>Everything is going too fast. Everything is just blurring by, too fast to even react. But he needs to react anyway.</p><p>"Clark!" Kent yells, struggling to contain the Lois-Eradicator.</p><p>He has to make a choice. He has to decide if he's going to help with the enemy in front of him, or if he's going to help whoever set off the sonic, a blatant cry for help.</p><p>He isn't fast enough to make either.</p><p>Lois swings, and Era shatters into a million pieces.</p><p>He isn't going to hesitate any longer.</p><p>Clark dives for the crystal plummeting to the Earth below. Even if Era is out of commission, the crystal is what really matters. As long as <em>that's</em> intact, he can come back, and he reaches out, scooping it out of the air, to cradle it in his arms. </p><p>He's fast enough to save Era, but he's not fast enough to save whoever set off the sonic. By the time he's stopped himself from crashing into the ground, the main hall is empty, the spent device resting on the floor. He can see Will arriving, and he turns away.</p><p>He can't help there. But he can still help with Lois.</p><p>Clark carefully sets Era's crystal down, and then shoots up towards his opponent.</p><p>Kent's still grappling with her, trying to keep her in one place, and its with the two of them locked together that Clark makes first contact. He doesn't hold back, hitting Lois <em>hard,</em> and the force of it is enough to break Kent's grip, knocking Lois free.</p><p>It's also enough to slow her down, even if just for a moment.</p><p>Lois seems, to Clark, almost out of her mind with rage and fury. It's not an emotion he's used to seeing on <em>any</em> Lois's features, and the knowledge that if she isn't stopped there she's liable to end up heading right over to <em>his</em> Lois is all the motivation he needs. </p><p>"Just let me kill him!" Lois yells as she drops from the sky, eyes glowing red with fury. Kent steps into the path, deflecting Lois's heat vision, and Clark aims to intercept Lois herself.</p><p>"That man's helped to protect <em>our children!" </em>He yells as he makes contact, hoping desperately it will be enough.</p><p>It isn't, but it helps. Lois hesitates a fraction of a second, and that's enough time for him to grab her, hauling her arms behind her back. It's not quite a pin, since they're both literally flying and gravity has no hold on them, but it's a significant advantage over where they were before.</p><p>Or at least it is until Lois—impossibly strong, even by his standards—starts to simply haul her arms forward, threatening to break Clark's grip through sheer strength alone. He doesn't understand how she's so strong. He doesn't understand how she can just be so <em>strong.</em></p><p>He doesn't understand how they're going to win, either. As strong as she is, even him <em>and</em> Kent won't be able to win. Not when for her, winning is getting <em>one blow</em> in the right direction, and he and Kent have so much that needs to be kept safe.</p><p>But they're not alone, and they don't have to <em>fight</em> alone.</p><p>Help arrives in the form of Jon and his brothers, but it's Khalid who has Clark's attention. Khalid's magic is the only thing that might be able to help, and the rush of energy that Clark feels as Khalid reaches out with his magic is enough to make him shiver.</p><p>It should be easy for Khalid to take her down, but it isn't. Clark can feel the magic rushing over him, the sensation nauseating, and one particularly awful pulse forces him to release his hold entirely, letting Lois free.</p><p>Khalid's magic isn't enough. Khalid seems to know it, and everyone <em>else</em> seems to know it too, watching in horror as Lois begins to pull free. A part of her, Clark suspects, is still human, and that part isn't reacting to Khalid's magic the way her Kryptonian half is.</p><p>There needs to be something else. There needs to be <em>more.</em></p><p>And it's Kent who steps up.</p><p>"Take care of your boys," he says simply, "I'll take care of Lois."</p><p>Clark knows what he's going to do before he does it, but all he can do is stand there and watch. Kent knows that Lois will struggle. He knows that she'll fight.</p><p>And he's going to make her stop.</p><p>He doesn't grapple her or grab her hands the way Clark did, or even the way he did before. He rises to her level, the magic blurring the air around him, and reaches out. Even at a distance, Clark can hear him plain as day, and it hurts just to hear it.</p><p>"It doesn't have to be like this. I can't let you hurt someone else's family, even if it's not my own. Let them be."</p><p>Her scream is tinted with rage, but to Clark it sounds almost mournful. </p><p>Khalid opens his mouth to say something, but Clark shakes his head.</p><p>"But—"</p><p>"No matter what," Clark says, "he'll be taken back. At least this way, he'll have a heroes ending."</p><p>It's, in a terrible way, the best case scenario. The best option is that Kent will sacrifice himself to stop an opponent. That he'll at least have a <em>victory</em> rather than an absolute defeat.</p><p>Khalid tenses, and then nods. The magic around them redoubles, strengthening each second. Lois doesn't fight it the way she was before. If anything, she seems to relent, abandoning the fight entirely.</p><p>And when Khalid is finished, the magic dissipating into the air, neither of them remains.</p><p>"...Trapped," Khalid confirms. He holds up a small bronze disk, a tiny figure seeming to hold it up, and in the reflection Clark gets an impression of two figures, held together. "I'm sorry I took so long."</p><p>"It wouldn't have made a difference." Clark feels so, <em>so</em> tired, and yet there's more work to be done. More enemies to find. More enemies to stop.</p><p>And they've just lost one of their major powerhouses.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Duke / 3:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Duke is not having a good time. In fact, he'd even go so far as to describe the time he's having as <em>very bad.</em></p><p>His eyes haven't stopped glowing.</p><p>They've moved out of the sad little basement, the bodies of their counterparts having long since faded away until even the smoke that made them up is gone. They're perched on the roof instead, which is it's own special kind of hell because there's just so <em>much.</em> There's just light everywhere, and seeing light is... it's something.</p><p>Every ray of light feels like a distinct <em>thing,</em> something he can see separate from the others. It's almost overwhelming, and a lot of the time it's not <em>almost.</em> Duke curls up on the roof, hiding his eyes as he tries to make them stop.</p><p>"Oh thank god," Z says in the distance. "Over here!" Duke can hear her waving furiously, hopefully flagging down Dick. There's two separate sets of footsteps, and then a hand rests on his shoulder.</p><p>"You okay there?" Dick asks, and Duke risks a peek out towards Dick. Dax is there too, and he jerks back, eyes going wide.</p><p>"Woah, you guys weren't kidding. His eyes are... that's not even glowing, that's... giving off light," Dax says.</p><p>"That's what glowing <em>means," </em>Shug protests.</p><p>"Yeah, but if you <em>say</em> glowing, it makes me think it's a lot more subtle. This is a lot more... intense."</p><p>Dick shushes them, taking a seat beside Duke and looking him over. Dick, Duke is sure, will know what to do. He'll have an idea.</p><p>Dick, unfortunately, does not have an idea.</p><p>"Does it hurt?" He asks, and Duke shakes his head because no, it doesn't hurt, it's just... overwhelming. Like having four people talking to him at once and trying to keep the conversations straight. "What's it like?"</p><p>"It's like I can <em>see</em> light. Like... as a... thing. Like light is a physical object rather than something that lets me see other things. It's hard to explain."</p><p>Apparently someone's already told Dick what happened, because he doesn't ask for any further clarification. Instead, he reaches down, carefully tilting Duke's head up and staring him into the eyes, turning his head this way and that as he inspects him.</p><p>"Well, you're not <em>hurt," </em>Dick says carefully. "This isn't exactly how I'd want any new powers to come out, but... I mean, at least you're not in danger. Just... Mmm. Act like it's a new pair of glasses. Look around, let your eyes adjust. If you give it enough time, you <em>should</em> be able to adjust to it."</p><p>Easier said than done. Duke does make a real, honest attempt at doing that, and finds that it <em>is</em> easier to manage the input if he's not looking anywhere near people... or things, for that matter. It's easier when the light is just coming down rather than his brain trying to process how it's bouncing off things. He even goes so far as to hold his hands up, making blinders with his hands to keep him from seeing too much around him.</p><p>"Feeling better?" Dick asks, and Duke takes a moment to clear his throat before answering.</p><p>"Better," he confirms. "Still not good."</p><p>"How are things in Gotham?" Z asks, and Duke's secretly happy that Dick's attention is elsewhere for a moment.</p><p>"Not great. I'd say they have things mostly under control, but it's still a lot to deal with."</p><p>"Shouldn't we be helping?"</p><p>There's no response. Maybe Dick's shaken his head, because the rest of his response seems to imply as much.</p><p>"Better not to have all our eggs in one basket. There's a limited amount we can do to help when we're potentially fighting Superman-level threats, but there's a very real risk that we're going to start dealing with new arrivals up here. We're in contact with Tanya, who's monitoring the situation. She'll contact your comms if anyone pops up in Bludhaven, and we'll need to respond to that."</p><p>Duke's already losing focus. He's too busy watching the way the light moves, and more importantly the oddity he's witnessing. Far off in the distance—<em>of course </em>in the direction of Gotham—Duke can tell something is wrong. It's too far to get details, but even so there's the distinct sense, somehow, that light is... misbehaving.</p><p>He's pretty sure light isn't supposed to do that.</p><p>"Dick?"</p><p>Dick stops what he was saying, turning his attention completely to Duke.</p><p>"Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like what you're about to say?"</p><p>"Because you're not. Something's wrong over in Gotham."</p><p>"A <em>lot</em> is wrong over in Gotham. More specific?"</p><p>It takes Duke a moment to pull it together, to really put his finger on what it is that he's witnessing. Even once he has—even once he has a good sense for <em>what</em> it is—explaining it is hard. He doesn't really have the words for what he's seeing, and expecting someone else to understand it is... confusing.</p><p>"It's like there's a black hole."</p><p>"...Huh?" Dax says behind him, stepping up to the edge of the roof and squinting like he should be able to <em>see</em> it.</p><p>"I mean, it can't <em>literally</em> be a black hole, because then the entire planet would be doomed, but it's like that. The light near Gotham is... bending inward. Curving towards a single point."</p><p>"...Any idea where that point is?" Dick asks, sounding <em>very</em> tired.</p><p>Duke shrugs.</p><p>"Too far to tell. From here, it's just... somewhere vaguely in the direction of Gotham."</p><p>He knows what's going to happen. In fact, he's pretty sure they all do by the time Dick finishes letting out another overly weary sigh.</p><p>"Everyone else, I want you to stay in Bludhaven. Monitor the situation, but keep yourself safe and ready to go if you're needed. Duke, you're with me. We're going to just... drive towards that point and let everyone else know what's going on as we go."</p><p>"Here," Dax says, and a pair of sunglasses are held in front of Duke's head. "Might make it less intense, and if nothing else it'll make you look a lot less like a kid with glowing eyes."</p><p>Duke puts them on, even though they don't really fit, and finds that they <em>do</em> help... at least with his problem. If Dax's grimace when Duke looks at him is any indication, they're not doing much to hide the fact that his eyes are obviously glowing.</p><p>"...Maybe stay in the car," Dick says. "Come on. We'll get food on the way, because I haven't eaten in hours."</p><p>Duke just hopes he's going to be able to keep that food down.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Cass / 3:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassandra doesn't like the safehouse.</p><p>Strictly speaking, there isn't anything wrong with it. It could pass for a perfectly normal house, the safety measures all but invisible. There's room enough for all of them, even with the house packed. There's five adults, one sort of adult, three babies and a number of pets that Cass isn't even sure of (she thinks it might be three, but the cats are hard to keep track of).</p><p>And her.</p><p>The safehouse simply isn't good because it isn't <em>home.</em> It isn't the place she's come to accept as her own. Her room isn't there. Her things aren't there.</p><p>And, whether she's willing to accept it or not, Cass knows she'll never really go back to that place. The house is (probably) still standing, but it's just a house. With Billy gone (and thinking of that at all is like hitting an open wound) it won't ever be the same.</p><p>At some point, she's going to have to sit down with everyone—probably Bruce and Slade, if she's being honest with herself—and figure out what happens next.</p><p>But right then it isn't possible. There's danger. Threats.</p><p>Technically speaking she's there for the same reason Yen is: because her counterpart is no longer a threat, and if anyone attacks the safe-house they'll be able to help. Even so, she doesn't think that's really true. It's hard to imagine any of the people she's hiding with would pose a serious threat, or even have an evil version of themselves at all.</p><p>Well, maybe Thomas, only they've said he doesn't get one after all.</p><p>Cassandra's been given one of the rooms and space to herself, and she's sprawled out on the bed staring at the ceiling when someone comes calling. She almost doesn't want to answer the knock at the door, but she knows that if she doesn't, they'll probably assume something's gone wrong.</p><p>"Here," she calls, and the door pops open.</p><p>Yen is nice enough, but that doesn't change the fact that Cass would prefer to be left completely alone. He leans in the door, scanning the room for a moment before his eyes settle on her.</p><p>"Bruce just called, if you want to hear the update," he says, and then withdraws.</p><p>Cass doesn't go after him.</p><p>She's allowed to stay that way for longer than expected, long enough she almost dozes off. Almost slips into a sleep that will inevitably be haunted by nightmares. She wants to sleep, but she also doesn't want to sleep at all.</p><p>The grief is like a person sitting on her chest. Eventually, she knows she's going to have to look at them. Eventually, she's going to have to ask them to stop crushing her. But it's easier, right then, to just not deal with it at all.</p><p>The next person who comes doesn't wait for her to acknowledge them. They simply knock, wait a few moments, and then come inside. It's Thomas, a man who Cassandra has almost no real knowledge of. He's a person, but that's it. He exists, but that's as far as her knowledge really goes.</p><p>She closes her eyes and pretends to sleep, but Thomas isn't deterred. He grabs the chair from the desk, pulling it away and setting it in the room where he sits down heavily. His presence is hard to ignore, and after a moment she simply opens her eyes.</p><p>"The house got attacked," Thomas says, his voice strained. Everything about his posture radiates distress, like he's a moment away from leaving through the window to go help. "Damian was taken, and the other Clark fought... another version of Lois, who'd combined with Era. They were taken out, but so was the other Clark. We're down a man."</p><p>Cassandra wants to care. She <em>should</em> care. Damian was always kind to her, and the fact that he could be hurt—or <em>dead</em>—should be distressing.</p><p>But she doesn't. She feels raw and empty, every bit of emotion she has already clawed out of her. She's had a hard enough time expressing herself in normal situations, and the death of the person she cared about the most is so far beyond what she's used to that it's impossible to really process.</p><p>She says nothing, and closes her eyes.</p><p>"You're probably mad," Thomas says, and he couldn't be more wrong. Mad is an emotion, and Cassandra doesn't have those at all right then. "The person who took Damian was probably working with the other Slade. They stuck you here to keep you away from the fighting, but if you want a chance at revenge, I'm not going to stop you from going to help."</p><p>Cassandra thinks he might be reaching out to her in his own way, but it's falling flat. She doesn't want revenge, and for a moment she struggles to explain why.</p><p>"Living with Billy meant no fighting," she says simply. "Killing someone... would betray him."</p><p>She doesn't want that. He did so much to try and give her a chance at a different life. A <em>better</em> life, with something more than fighting.</p><p>The desire to go out and hunt down the man who hurt Billy is there, but it isn't nearly as strong as Thomas seems to think.</p><p>"You don't want to fight?" He asks, and Cassandra cracks her eyes open, turning to look at him.</p><p>She doesn't, and she wants him to know that. He holds her gaze for a long while, seeming to take it in, and then simply nods.</p><p>He understands.</p><p>"Well, hopefully you won't need to," Thomas says quietly. "Yen's pretty strong, and I can hold my own in a fight. We talked about moving Alfred, Johnathan, and Martha elsewhere, but decided not to split our forces like that. We're all going to hold tight here."</p><p>"I..." Cassandra pauses, trying to find the right words. It's harder than it should be, and harder still without Billy there to help her through it. "I will fight. But... to help."</p><p>If someone comes for them, she'll fight back. She'll protect those around her.</p><p>But not for revenge. She won't stain Billy's memory like that. She won't make his death about going back to her old ways. She won't make it about <em>hurting</em> people.</p><p>He wouldn't want that.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Michael / 3:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's difficult to stand around and do nothing while there are things to do, but at the same time it's impossible to deny that what they're doing <em>is</em> important.</p><p>It's just, in a word, boring.</p><p>The massive green pod (Joey insists that it's a seed, but Michael's just as insistent that it's more of a pod) is undeniably important. It also, just as undeniably, needs to be guarded. It's defenseless, and since they killed the monstrous version of Ivy there hasn't been any clear sign of movement in the plant life of the park that was once the side of Arkham City.</p><p>Michael's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. As much as Ivy (she <em>never</em> goes by Pamela or Isley anymore) has been a good ally, Michael's never been entirely comfortable with her either. She reminds him too much of how he was when he was under the order's thumb, her empathy towards her fellow human beings severely compromised.</p><p>Assuming she can even be counted as human at all. She certainly doesn't, and she's made that much clear every single time Michael's had to interact with her.</p><p><em>How long do you think this is going to take? </em>Joey signs, and Michael offers a brief shrug before turning to stare at the pod. It's large—easily six feet tall and about that around—but that's all it is. It isn't doing anything. There's no ominous pulsing. No mysterious cracks in the outside.</p><p>"Could be a while," he says. "This whole crisis might be over before she comes out."</p><p>They aren't even entirely sure that the pod <em>is</em> Ivy, but that's their best guess. Michael thinks it's some kind of <em>rebirth</em> thing, like a phoenix metaphorically retreating to their egg. Joey's a bit more utilitarian: he thinks it's simply a shield she's hidden herself behind.</p><p>Moving the pod is impossible. It's heavily rooted into the ground, and an early attempt to shove it somewhere more secure went nowhere. They've reported in what they're doing, but outside of Joey's ability and Michael's currently-not-flaming sword, Michael's feeling particularly vulnerable. In any other case they'd have people arriving to help, but absolutely <em>everyone </em>is busy.</p><p>So it's just them against... well, anything that tries to come after them.</p><p><em>I'm knocking, </em>Joey signs, pushing himself to his feet. Michael almost wants to tell him not to, but at the same time, what can it hurt?</p><p>If Joey's knocking, Michael's going in on it too, and he stands as well, leaning in to listen as Joey raps his knuckles against the hard shell of the pod. </p><p>"...Liquid," Michael guesses. He's not sure if the pod being filled with fluid means his theory or Joey's is more likely, but the knocking doesn't seem to do anything.</p><p><em>Probably not awake, then,</em> Joey signs, gesturing to the pod. <em>I guess we're stuck here.</em></p><p>The thought of leaving Ivy to her own devices crosses his mind, but he ignores the thought on principal. She's defenseless, and there's no telling what would happen if someone forced their way through the shell that's protecting her.</p><p>And if he's being honest with himself, the simple fact is that Michael knows he won't be as useful as he'd like. He's been out of practice, and even if he wasn't there's a limit to how much he can realistically contribute. The era of super-powered beings like Clark has officially begun, and there's only so much a man with a sword can do.</p><p>Michael's phone beeps, and Joey looks over. His own phone's gone, destroyed when the car flipped, and he leans in as Michael lowers the phone to let him read.</p><p>The message is a grim one.</p><p><b>Bruce: </b>@ All Associates. Situation has become critical. While numerous enemies have been captured or otherwise disabled, we believe that a group of them are now coordinating among themselves. Manor was attacked, and Damian has been captured. A rescue is being mounted. Please keep an eye out and hold positions.</p><p>The moment Michael finishes reading, his phone beeps again.</p><p><b>Bruce: </b>Be careful.</p><p>The tone of the first message is curt, even dispassionate, but the second, to Michael, <em>screams </em>of Bruce's distress. His son's been captured. He's probably in danger. He might even be killed.</p><p><em>I need to go help,</em> Joey signs desperately. <em>Tell them I'm coming.</em></p><p>Joey turns to head to the road, and Michael reaches out, catching Joey's wrist and stopping him in his tracks.</p><p>"I understand. I know why this is important to you, Joey. But we need to stay put. You don't have the ikon suit any longer, and while your power is useful, they told us to hold positions for a reason."</p><p>Joey jerks his hand free, and Michael doesn't try and fight him on it.</p><p><em>That's Jason's brother,</em> he signs frantically, practically radiating distress. <em>I need to do something.</em></p><p>"You <em>are</em> doing something." Michael's trying not to raise his voice, but it's a fools errand. It's getting raised one way or another. "If we leave and something happens to Ivy..."</p><p>He trails off, because he doesn't know what to say. Realistically, nothing <em>will</em> happen to them. There won't be any consequences for failing to save a woman who lives largely outside society. But at the same time, they'll still have failed. Her death will still be on their heads. There's no denying that, and it's that idea—that potential guilt—which seems to make Joey maddest.</p><p>He turns towards the pod, marches right up to it, and punches it in the side. Joey can't yell, but that doesn't stop him from hitting it twice more, leaning forward until his head is pressed against the pod. What he means to say is immaterial: the <em>meaning</em> is clear enough.</p><p>And the meaning is, in its own way, heard. Joey jerks backwards as the pod begins to move, the interlocking leaves that make it up slowly coming apart. Joey quickly backsteps to stand beside Michael, and Michael keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword, no longer on fire but very much ready to go.</p><p>They have a pretty good idea <em>who</em> is coming out, but that doesn't mean they'll be friendly.</p><p>It feels like a genuine relief when they catch sight of Ivy's face emerging from the greenery. Her face is blessedly human, nothing like the mouthless, featureless creature that tried to kill them both only a few hours before. For a moment, Michael things that Ivy's completely unharmed and unchanged by her time hiding in the pod, but when she stands, revealing her full body—very, <em>very</em> naked—he realizes she's wrong.</p><p>Ivy has, without question, been attacked. There's a thick band across her torso as if she was hit by something, and rather than a bruise the flesh has been replaced by a streak of green. It looks, from a distance, not unlike the material that makes up a stem, but Michael isn't willing to get close enough to investigate.</p><p>Ivy is still a beautiful woman, but how much of her could still be considered human seems to have been reduced significantly.</p><p>She watches them in silence for a moment, and then looks around, observing the forest. She even glances behind her as the pod she hid inside seems to degrade, collapsing onto the forest floor. Only once she's stepped out of it does she address them, her voice perfectly smooth and composed.</p><p>"What happened to the other woman...?" She asks, scanning the trees as if expecting the other Ivy to burst out of the trees.</p><p>"We... believe she was another version of you," Michael clarifies. "The world at large has been invaded with... doppelgangers. Yours was just one of many, unfortunately."</p><p>"You didn't answer my question," Ivy says, and Michael sucks in a breath. It's hard to tell how she'll react.</p><p>Joey responds for him. Whether or not Ivy understands his signs, he tops the whole thing off by drawing his hand across his throat, making her fate clear enough.</p><p>"Mmm. I suppose I should be thankful to you then," Ivy says, and Michael lets out the breath he's been holding. "She was quite intent on destroying me for a reason I can't quite understand. Were you waiting here for me, then...? Did you need some assistance?"</p><p>This, too, is a question that Michael isn't sure how to answer, only he's fairly sure Ivy can't understand Joey, which means it's up to him to answer it anyway.</p><p>In the end, he decides that the truth is probably the best.</p><p>"We were making sure no one attacked your... shell. There are other counterparts to fight, but it was more a matter of not wanting to leave your defenseless."</p><p>Ivy's laugh is light, almost relaxed, and something about it throws Michael off even more than if she'd just told him he was an idiot for wasting his time.</p><p>"Well, I suppose turnabout is fair play. Since you've been so kind as to stick around, I'm sure you can help <em>me</em> then," she says. "Something's burnt away part of the forest, clearing a space. I'd like to take them to task for it."</p><p>Michael pauses. His instinct is to say <em>no, we have better things to do,</em> but something about the way Ivy smiles tells him that there's something more to it.</p><p><em>Is it possible its the people who took Damian? Arkham CIty would be a good hiding place, </em>Joey signs, and Michael hesitates a moment longer.</p><p>They have nothing better to do, and if going along will earn Ivy's help... well, it's probably a win for them either way.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Will / 3:15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will's waiting in the wings when everything goes wrong. He's dressed in the Ikon suit, Deathstroke strapped to his back, waiting to jump in. He can fight a Kryptonian if they're focused on him, but with the Clarks grappling in the atmosphere his options are limited. He can't fly like Jason. Really, unless someone comes at the house, there's not going to be shit he can do.</p><p>Until the sonic goes off.</p><p>It's loud enough that even across the house, his ears are ringing, but Will doesn't let that stop him. Jason's standing by with Bruce, but he's free to move around for exactly this reason, speeding through the halls to reach the source. Someone's calling for help, and when he reaches the second floor landing, he doesn't stop: he simply plants a hand on the banister and hauls himself over it, dropping to the floor below.</p><p>He has enough awareness to see what's happening below—Damian's on the ground and not getting up, and someone who looks just Bart save for the outfit is scooping him up—and then they're gone.</p><p>Gone fast enough even Will can't catch sight of more than a blur.</p><p>Will lands hard, rolling forward, but it's too late. They're gone, and Will's been left behind.</p><p>"FUCK!" He yells at the top of his lungs. Jason's supposed to be staying with Bruce, but that doesn't stop him from appearing up above, leaning over the third story's railing.</p><p>"Will?" He yells, and Bruce appears a moment later, apparently having decided that investigation is more important than his safety.</p><p>Barbara's on it already, the communicator in his still-ringing ear coming to life as she briefs everyone of the situation.</p><p>"Someone I think was the other Bart—"</p><p>"Thad," Will corrects. He strongly doubts that it was Bart's counterpart—they're probably down dealing with the actual Bart. "He just didn't have his hair dyed."</p><p>"Someone I think was the other <em>Thad</em> grabbed Damian," Barbara says. "He's missing. Where's the other Damian?"</p><p>She's completely abandoned any pretense of code names, and Will isn't sure if that's because she's secured the system, or if it's because she's too panicked.</p><p>"He's here," Will says as he spots Ra's coming in the door, Barry hot on his heels. "Status?"</p><p>"We just spotted an enemy Kryptonian feeling us out to the north," Clark says. "We're not sure if they're working together, but I'm going to need to keep Khalid. We lost Kent."</p><p>They <em>lost Kent?</em></p><p>"Lost how?" Barbara asks immediately.</p><p>"Contained," Khalid says. His voice sounds weird, the helmet distorting it in a way that's deeply unnatural. "I won't be able to release him without risking releasing his opponent."</p><p>"We'll deal with it later," Will says. He pauses, turning his gaze skywards, and sees that Bruce is still there, staring down at him. Still just... frozen.</p><p>Will forces himself to look away. Getting Damian back has to be priority number one. He scans the room, locating the letter that the other Thad had abandoned on the floor. It's brief, direct, and written in neat handwriting: an invitation to the heart of Arkham City. The place where the Joker died.</p><p>It's signed <em>Bruce.</em></p><p>"What are we doing?" Will says. He looks up, but Bruce has nothing to say. Slade's there, pulling Bruce away, and Will realizes that <em>someone</em> is going to have to take charge.</p><p>That someone, apparently, is him.</p><p>"Bruce, Jason, and Slade are one team," he says. "I'll take Barry and Ra's." Three and three. "My team will head directly for Damian. The others can head into Arkham and deal with what comes up." He doesn't believe for even a second that Bruce is going to stay out of it. Not Bruce. There's not a snowballs chance in hell that the man he loves would just opt to sit at home while his son is <em>in danger.</em></p><p>"Any objections?" He asks, just to make sure.</p><p>"No objections here," Barbara says, "but you guys need to hurry it up. The number of arrivals seems to be increasing—we've had multiple new arrivals in Gotham in the last half hour, and the rate only seems to be increasing. Stephanie reported she got jumped while picking up Jim Gordon. He apparently hit her counterpart in the head with a baking pan, and now they're travelling to the next site."</p><p>Will hesitates, but he can't <em>not </em>ask.</p><p>"Does she know about her dad?"</p><p>The awkward silence on the comms tells him what he needs to know.</p><p>"Should I?" Barbara finally asks.</p><p>"No," Slade says before Will can come up with an answer. "Not right now. Not when grief could get someone killed. Tell her after. I'm going to grab my suit, and we'll leave as soon as we're able."</p><p>"We're leaving now," Will says, turning to his own teammates. Barry is... well, him getting around won't be an issue, and Ra's seems to have some great beast as a mount. Considering it can fly, it's definitely faster than running, but it's also <em>big and red, </em>which doesn't exactly make for subtlety. "Am I hitching a ride, or...?"</p><p>"I thought it would be too obvious," Ra's says. "I was going to have Goliath stay nearby, but not on us. If we're lucky, they'll be holding Damian away from where they want Bruce, and we'll be able to rescue him before anything comes to blows."</p><p>That's the ideal, but Will sure as fuck isn't betting on it. He wants to go upstairs and say goodbye to Slade and Bruce. He wants to comfort them.</p><p>But that feels too final. They're all coming back from this, and Will won't hear otherwise.</p><p>"Wait!" Thad arrives in a blur, skidding to a stop in front of Slade. He's been doing mop up at Blackgate, helping get things under control, but he's obviously not willing to be left behind, either. "You weren't going to leave without me?"</p><p>He looks devastated by the idea. Will hesitates, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, and then ruffles his hair.</p><p>"I know you want to come. But we're stretched tight, and we need someone to stay here in case something happens. You should join Barbara in the vault."</p><p>Thad narrows his eyes, glaring up at Slade, and his hands clench into fists.</p><p>"No."</p><p>Will raises an eyebrow.</p><p>"No?"</p><p>"It was <em>my</em> doppelganger who took Damian. He's mine to deal with. Mine to fight."</p><p>That's the reason Will wants Thad to stay behind. The farther Thad is from his counterpart, the safer he'll be. Putting the two of them <em>against</em> each other... It's the worst case scenario.</p><p>"I don't want you getting hurt," he says simply, and Thad, little shit that he is, <em>smirks up at him.</em></p><p>"Who says I'm getting hurt?"</p><p>"We don't have time to be standing around," Ra's points out. "Let him travel with Barry. The two of us can take Goliath and fly low."</p><p>Thad doesn't look enthusiastic about travelling with Barry, but he offers no protest, and Will doesn't think he can drag it out any longer.</p><p>"Alright," he says. "Lets go."</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Dick / 3:20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dick doesn't like Arkham City. Little question as to why: so many people have suffered and died there that it feels like the earth itself is stained in blood. He tries to focus on the road as he heads into what remains, and the farther they go, the rougher the road gets.</p><p>"Give me some kind of idea of how close we're getting," Dick says, sparing a glance to Duke at his side. "Anything?"</p><p>"We're closer," Duke confirms. "I think it's moving, but... I mean, it's hard to tell." He's squinting, and as Dick watches he reaches up, lifting the sunglasses to squint harder. "Definitely closer. You think the evil Bruce has it?"</p><p>That's what Dick's betting. Who else but Bruce to have it?</p><p>"We're not going to fight them," Dick reassures Duke. They've got their gear on anyway, ready to go if they <em>do</em> get attacked. "We're going to get close enough to give Barbara better directions, and then everyone <em>else</em> who's coming down to deal with things can... deal with them." Saving Damian is priority number one, but getting the anchor—<em>destroying</em> the anchor, if he's understanding right—is definitely priority number two. The moment it's gone, the vast majority of their enemies will go right back where they belong, and all they'll have to do is mop things up.</p><p>Out of nowhere, something hits the side of the car, nearly knocking them off the road. Dick loses control of the rear wheels, spinning out as he slams on the breaks, reaching out with his free hand to keep Duke from headbutting the damned dash.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, the forest bulges forward, and Ivy emerges. She's, at a glance, more or less the person he remembers. A bit more <em>planty,</em> and there's a large bright green mark across her torso even at a distance, but still Ivy.</p><p>For a moment, he's sure that this is the <em>other</em> Ivy, and then he remembers he's pretty sure she's supposed to be dead. The whole thing gets even more confusing when two very human figures—Joey in a rather dirty looking business suit and Michael in similar, save for the oversized sword lying across his shoulder—emerge from the woods.</p><p>"Woah!" Michael yells. "That's a friendly!"</p><p>Ivy doesn't seem impressed, and Dick stays right where he is, with the bulk of the card to shield them. He's not stupid enough to try and outrun Ivy in her own home.</p><p>"You <em>think</em> he's friendly," Ivy points out. "He could be a doppelganger."</p><p>"His is already dealt with," Michael counters. "Dick? That you?"</p><p>"That's me!" He calls back, lowering the window as he does. Ivy turns away, apparently bored of them, and starts down the road towards the center of Arkham City, apparently perfectly happy to leave them behind. She's <em>destroying</em> the road, roots ripping out of the earth to carry her along.</p><p><em>Sorry!</em> Joey signs. <em>We're going to help. Apparently someone burnt away plant life and now Ivy's on the warpath.</em></p><p>What.</p><p>"You're just..." Dick doesn't even know how to finish the sentence, gesturing wildly in the direction Ivy's gone. Apparently, that's coherent enough, because Joey grins.</p><p>
  <em>Tagging along? Yeah. Even if I don't have the suit anymore, I can still stun someone. Aren't you supposed to be in Bludhaven?</em>
</p><p>"Long story. Barbara didn't tell you?"</p><p>"There's a lot going on," Michael points out.</p><p>There's not even any discussion about what they should be doing. Michael and Joey simply climb into the back of Dick's car, and Dick carefully eases his car onto what remains of the road, avoiding the damaged path that Ivy's leaving behind. It's the only way they're going to be able to keep up, after all.</p><p>"Long story short," Duke says from the passenger seat, "my doppelganger wasn't such a bad guy, but he decided to poison me with some kind of weird shadow powers, which made my <em>own </em>powers activate, and now I can... see light."</p><p>"By which he means he can see... the way light is moving," Dick says. That's the impression he's gotten. "Something this way is... sucking in light."</p><p>"Anchor's supposed to be a ball of space," Michael points out. "You think it's that?"</p><p>"Best idea we have," Duke says with a shrug. "We're just going to try and figure out where it is, and then we can send in the big guns."</p><p>"You mean like that big gun?" Michael leans forward, pointing out the front windshield towards Ivy.</p><p>Dick has to agree that Ivy is a pretty fucking big gun. So much of Arkham City is overgrown, and the area is just <em>teeming</em> with plant life. Even if the enemy is using fire to clear space, that isn't going to stop Ivy from tearing them a new one, and the fact that she's only speeding up is alarming.</p><p>"She's going to just bowl into them, isn't she?" Duke asks suddenly, the horror of what's coming dawning on him suddenly. "She's not going to stop, she's just going to hit the first person she sees. What if she gets near Damian?"</p><p>Oh. He hadn't thought of that, but then having Ivy go charging in like an out of control train wasn't exactly his idea either.</p><p>"Joey's contacting the others," Michael says from the back seat. "At least she's going mostly straight ahead."</p><p>"We might need to... point her the right way," Dick points out. "Duke?"</p><p>Duke mutters something that sounds a lot like <em>fuck my life,</em> rolls down the window, leans partially out it, and yells as loud as he possibly can.</p><p>"Ivy! If you want to find them, you're going to need to go a little bit to the left!"</p><p>At first it doesn't look like she's heard him, but then she seems to ever so slightly turn. Duke squints, adjusts his glasses, and then pulls himself back into the car, watching as Ivy slowly veers off the road.</p><p>Dick has no choice but to follow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Slade / 3:25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Slade is ready for war.</p><p>He's dressed in his old Gotham Knight armor, the gear perfectly up to date even if he hasn't had much cause to wear it lately. He's done a fair amount of sparring—sometimes with Will, sometimes with the boys—and as far as he's concerned, he's at his peak.</p><p>He's less certain about Bruce.</p><p>Bruce is <em>physically</em> fine, but mentally he's barely present. Even if he insisted on coming along, his mind is elsewhere: miles ahead, with his son. With <em>their</em> son.</p><p>"We're going to get him back," Slade reminds him. Jason's carrying them literally by the scruff of their suits, and it's clear to Slade he's not going to be doing any dog fighting. They're weighing him down, but it's faster than any other method for getting there.</p><p>When Bruce doesn't respond, Slade attempts to prod him for further information.</p><p>"So where are we going, exactly?"</p><p>He regrets the question the moment he gets an answer, because there's nowhere else it could possibly be.</p><p>"Monarch Theater," Jason says. "Located in Park Row."</p><p>"I know where it is," Slade replies. How could he not? It's not really possible to live in Gotham and not know about Park Row, and it sure as fuck isn't possible to be married to Bruce Wayne and not know how important Park Row is: it's the place where the Wayne's spent their last day as a family. It's also, if he remembers right, the place where Talia al Ghul died.</p><p>The place is a goddamn minefield. Bad for Bruce, bad for Damian, bad for Jason.</p><p>"You two need to stay back. Let me handle things, and make sure no one's trying to jump me. I don't want <em>either </em>of you fighting this fucker. Let's all remember that one of us is an enhanced super soldier, and it's <em>me."</em></p><p>"Allow me to remind you that one of us is wearing a suit that lets him go hand to hand with Clark. Who is that, again?" Jason asks, and Slade huffs.</p><p>They descend into the remains of old Gotham in silence. There doesn't appear to be any obvious activity, but that doesn't <em>mean</em> anything. Most likely any opponents would be waiting in the wings anyway, preparing to strike the moment they let their guard down.</p><p>Jason doesn't go for the front entrance. Instead, he lands on the roof, not far from an old access door that's already hanging open. The fact that it's open doesn't strike Slade as particularly suspicious, because the theater—and almost everything around it—is already being reclaimed. Whether because of Ivy's involvement or simply the lack of human presence, the city seems to be vanishing at a staggering rate. Within a decade, Slade has no doubt that the majority of the buildings he's looking at will have collapsed to some degree. The monarch looks intact enough, but he sure as hell won't be rushing in.</p><p>"What did I say about this fucker, exactly?" Slade says, squinting at Bruce and Jason until they give him the answers he seeks.</p><p>"I get it," Bruce says, teeth clenched. "We'll let you handle him."</p><p>Slade doubts they will, but at the very least they'll hang back enough to let him get the first blow. Personally? He isn't planning to go for a second. If he can put a bullet through the bastards head and be done with it, so be it. Bruce's whole <em>no killing </em>shtick absolutely shouldn't count evil doppelgangers, and it sure as fuck shouldn't count ones who kidnapped his kid.</p><p>He creeps down into the theater, drawing his gun as he goes. Standard desert eagle: old reliable. He doesn't want to be fancy. Doesn't want to fuck around with gadgets.</p><p>Fuck, he's more tense than he means to be. There's so many ways things can go wrong, and it's impossible not to find himself thinking of all of them as he works his way into the theater. There's probably a trap. There's probably something else going on. There's probably—</p><p>There's a hostage on the stage when Slade peaks around the corner, and it isn't Damian: it's Billy.</p><p>His heart skips a beat, taking the scene in. Billy's tied to a chair, a streak of blood on his temple. He's slumped forward, but does appear to be breathing: unconscious, maybe. Or just resting. It's not like he's likely to be able to do much. Billy never <em>was</em> much of a fighter.</p><p>Bruce isn't anywhere to be seen, and right then Slade's all too willing to put him aside entirely. Billy comes first.</p><p>"I'm going," he says quietly, and then heads down the upper level, heading towards the stage. There should be a staircase down for the staff, and he just needs to find it. Behind him, he hears Bruce split off to the left, and Jason... well, he can't hear where Jason's going. Probably shifted into stealth mode and sticking near the ceiling, if he's smart.</p><p>That's what Slade would do.</p><p>He finds the stairs, easing the door open. If his own counterpart is there, he can probably hear it just fine, but no one human's going to be able to.</p><p>It's all too easy. The trap is obvious, visible from a mile away, but there's little choice but to see what they're up to and try and beat them at their own game. They've already got two hostages, and Slade can't just leave them in the enemy's grip.</p><p>Slade creeps his way across the stage towards Billy. He doesn't react, which isn't a good sign, but it's not a <em>terrible</em> one at least. Being unconscious isn't ideal, but it's not the end of the world.</p><p>"Billy?" He says, drawing ever closer, and gets a vague groan. Billy's heartbeat is nice an even, so he isn't bleeding out at least, and Slade gets down to untying him. The ropes on his wrists aren't going to hold anyone long term, but they likely aren't meant to. They only have to hold Billy until Slade is in the trap.</p><p>Which he is right then. He's certain the trap's going to spring at any moment, and the only reason he's half as calm as he is right then is the knowledge that Bruce and Jason are somewhere nearby, keeping an eye out for him.</p><p>"Billy, I need you to get up," he says, voice low. "We're going to get you out of here, alright?"</p><p>Billy lets out another groan as if he's in pain, the smell of blood heavy in Slade's nostrils.</p><p>He's so close to Billy—so focused on making sure he's free—that he doesn't register what's happening until it's too late. Billy pulls his hands forward, and Slade rests a hand on his shoulder to help Billy up, and then there's a sharp pain in his gut.</p><p>He looks down to find the handle of a knife protruding. His brain feels like molasses compared to how quick it normally is. It's like he simply can't process what's going on: the fact that he's been <em>stabbed.</em></p><p>By Billy.</p><p>No, <em>not</em> by Billy he realizes far, far too late. If Billy was actually injured—if he actually had a head wound and was in pain—his heart rate wouldn't be perfectly steady. Not after being kidnapped. Not with an evil Bruce nearby.</p><p>Rage consumes him.</p><p>Not only is Billy dead—still dead, really—but he's just been jerked along, led to believe that he <em>wasn't,</em> that the man who was his best friend for a huge portion of his life was still <em>alive</em> and the rage eats him alive.</p><p> Apparently, the other Billy expects him to stagger backwards. Maybe cry.</p><p>Instead, Slade hits him so hard he hears bones crack. The fake Billy is thrown to the ground, and only <em>then</em> does Slade look down, inspecting the knife. It hurts. It hurts more than he's used to, if he's being honest.</p><p>He ignores every bit of battlefield first aid, pulling the knife out with a wet noise, and drops it onto the stage. The wound will heal, but the hurt won't. Not when he was so fucking <em>close.</em></p><p>There's the crack of something like bone, and Slade turns to find Wintergreen pushing himself to his feet. He reaches up, cracking his neck like he was a bit too stiffed, and then he turns to face Slade, apparently <em>perfectly fine.</em></p><p>Slade's eyes narrow.</p><p>"Please, do you really think they left me out here as bait while I was defenseless?" Wintergreen asks. "I do hope you don't think this is going to be an easy fight for you."</p><p>Somewhere on the second level, someone starts a fight: he can hear something hit a wall, cracking against the brick.</p><p>He can't focus on them right then.</p><p>"I'd say I won't get anything out of this," Slade says simply, squaring off with Wintergreen, "but considering what you just did, I'd be lying."</p><p>He's going to make him hurt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Thad / 3:25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Thad had a choice, he'd have ridden the great big red monster with Will. For one, Will was there. For another, the fuzzy animal seemed strangely friendly, and perfectly content to let Thad and Damian look him over when they'd had time earlier.</p><p>But mostly, it would mean not having to be around Barry.</p><p>Barry is... complicated. In theory, he should be family. He's Thad's biological father, after all.</p><p>But while Thad's warmed to the idea of Bart being his brother, he hasn't warmed similarly to the idea of Barry. He never had to. Barry was <em>dead.</em></p><p>And now this other Barry's here, making everything confusing. He's <em>not</em> the same Barry. He's not his dad. But it's confusing and messy and Thad doesn't want to deal with it at all. He doesn't want to think about the talk they're inevitably going to have after everything is said and done. The talk that's probably going to start with <em>I want to be your dad.</em></p><p>Thad doesn't want that. <em>Will</em> is his dad, and regardless of the fact that Barry donated his genetics (not that he had any say, of course) doesn't matter. That wasn't even <em>this</em> Barry.</p><p>"Are you staying when this is done?" He asks as they run. They're not going anywhere near their top speed, trying to keep pace with the others.</p><p>Barry seems to consider it as he runs. Maybe he's just focused on what's happening. Maybe he didn't even hear him. Thad isn't even sure he's going to answer until he actually <em>does.</em></p><p>"I'd like that, if I could," Barry says. "I'd have to learn more about this world."</p><p>Ugh. Thad was hoping for any other answer, and he scowls, focusing on his running.</p><p>Barry runs ahead, falling in just ahead of Thad and turning. He's running almost blind, or maybe just turning his head to check his path so fast Thad can barely keep up.</p><p>He doesn't know. He's not really looking.</p><p>"I get the impression you don't really like me. You wanna talk about that?"</p><p>He seems suspicious, and Thad can't even begin to guess what it is he thinks is happening. Maybe it's Will's influence, but he doesn't feel like beating around the bush.</p><p>"You're not my dad," he says simply. "You being around isn't going to change that."</p><p>That's the simplest way to spell it out, and for whatever reason that seems to satisfy Barry. He relaxes, turning to focus on the path they're taking.</p><p>"Well, you'll be happy to know I don't plan to be your dad, so you can relax. Why don't we focus on what's coming up?"</p><p>Even if Thad's the one who rejected him, Barry's dismissal doesn't sit right with him. It's a whole other level of confusion, because he didn't <em>want</em> Barry to be his dad... so why does Barry not wanting it upset him?</p><p>He tries to push it aside. He has to focus. They're going to be fighting soon. They need to get to Damian.</p><p>"I'm going to scout," Barry announces. "Stay with them, alright?"</p><p>Barry zips off ahead, and Thad scowls after him. He falls back, and then decides that running isn't for him. He zips up a building, winds up, and makes a running jump off the roof to land on Ra's mount.</p><p>He misses.</p><p>Or nearly misses: Will reaches out, snatching him out of the air before he goes plummeting to the ground. Thad scowls, and Will plants him firmly on the furry back. Ra's glances behind them, squinting at the pair of them as if he's not sure what's even going on.</p><p>"The moment your feet leave the ground, you're vulnerable," Will points out. "Can't change trajectory."</p><p>"It's hard to calculate flight speed for something that doesn't fly consistently!" Thad protests. The animal—if it can even be counted as such—alternates between extended glides and more active flying, and the shift between the two threw him off. <em>That's</em> the only reason he missed, and he plans to stick to that if pressed.</p><p>"We're close," Ra's says. "He's in one of these buildings up ahead." They're close to the city, and he gestures ahead of them. "I'll land on the roof, and then we'll head straight to him."</p><p>In the distance there's something that Thad momentarily takes to be an explosion. The <em>sound</em> is loud enough, but there's no fire, just... well, a crash. Something being destroyed. They all turn, watching the cloud of dust and particles, but it's far enough away from them that Thad can't really tell what's going on.</p><p>Not an explosion, though. It's all wrong for that.</p><p>"Ivy," Will says as Ra's' mount tips down, heading towards a rooftop. He holds up his hand, gesturing to the sides, and while Thad tries to follow his gesture, he can't see a damn thing. "Vines along the edge. Looks like she's decided to bulldoze part of the city for some reason."</p><p>No one lives in this part of town, but it still feels weird knowing it's being destroyed. Like it's something they should be stopping if they weren't so... well, they have things to do. They can't just go gallivanting off to help.</p><p>"Hopefully Joey and Michael are there," Thad says quietly. He doesn't risk contacting Barbara: while the others are still in communication, their team is supposed to be as quiet and secretive as they possibly can be. If they can get to Damian before anyone notices that they're there...</p><p>There's no access to the building from the roof once they've landed, but they locate a fire escape down the north side of the building. Barry arrives right around the time they get to the door, reporting that he didn't see anyone around the city, and Will takes charge directly.</p><p>"Thad, in the middle. Ra's, I want you bringing up the back. Barry... well, scout ahead." An obvious configuration, but one that isn't likely to stick around long. None of them appear to be particularly good team players, and their skills don't compliment each other well. The only two of them who might complement each other are him and Barry, and...</p><p>Well, they don't have any training, for one.</p><p>They creep into the building, and periodically Ra's gives Will directions. For the most part, it's just <em>down.</em> Keep going down.</p><p>They're on the second floor when Will stops, turning. He cranes his head, listening for a moment with his hand held out to signal silence.</p><p>"...What?" Barry says. "Aren't we supposed to keep going?"</p><p>"Someone's in there," Will says, pointing down the hall. "Heartbeats. Just one person."</p><p>"It's not Damian," Ra's confirms, gesturing farther down.</p><p>"I don't like this," Thad says, voice barely a whisper. "We should have encountered trouble."</p><p>Will shakes his head, and after a moment goes down the hall anyway. Even if it's not Damian, it might be someone <em>else</em> they know. A hostage, maybe. He pauses at the door, listening, and then shoves it open in one go.</p><p>There's a woman inside who Thad can only assume is a hostage. She's older than him, maybe Jason's age or a little bit older. Her white hair is close-cropped, with hardly any length to it. She's wearing a simple eye-patch, not unlike the one Slade wears sometimes, and her remaining eye narrows.</p><p>Of course, it's her clothes that give Thad the most important bit of context: a Gotham prisoner uniform, stained with a bit of blood that may or may not be here own.</p><p>"Rose," Will says. He sounds weirdly breathless, like he's struggling to breathe, and Thad has to double take. He's seen pictures of Rose—his sister, even if he's never met her—and it takes him a second longer to register that this is maybe, probably, <em>Slade's</em> Rose. The one they don't talk about.</p><p>"Who the hell are you?" She asks, squinting at Will. "Another one?"</p><p>"We should keep going," Ra's says. He doesn't seem particularly interested in Rose, far more intent on Damian. "Should we keep going down?"</p><p>"They've got something between us and them," Will says. "Something's blocking the sound, or I'd be able to hear them. We've got a moment, at least."</p><p>He strides right over to Rose without hesitation. She's facing the door, so Thad can't tell how she's bound, but she looks a bit like she's been handcuffed to the chair. She bares her teeth at Will as he approaches.</p><p>"Same answer I gave your friend," she spits. "I've had enough of one Slade Wilson. I'm not going to take this wonderful opportunity to spend time with another one."</p><p>"I'm not from another dimension," Will says, and then corrects. "I'm the one who came here before, not with this current batch. Let me just cut straight to the chase: you help us, we'll put in a good word for you when you get back to Blackgate. Now why'd they want you?"</p><p>She narrows her remaining eye even more, squinting up at Will as if trying to figure out if he's being serious. Thad takes the opportunity to zip around her at top speed, taking her bindings in. Not handcuffs, but something heavier duty: she's sealed into bindings that run from just below her elbow, encasing her hands and making it that much harder to escape.</p><p>A single handcuff connects her ankle to the chair itself, keeping her in place.</p><p>"Is she an ally?" Barry asks, looking her over as she considers Will's question.</p><p>"Damian's waiting," Ra's says again. His mask's back in place, hiding his expression from them, but Thad gets the impression he's worried.</p><p>"They wanted some stupid father-daughter fantasy," Rose finally says. "Seems like their own Rose got killed, so the two of them—"</p><p>"Two?" Will says. "There's two Slades?"</p><p>"From what I can tell there's at least three," Rose snaps. "But no. A Slade and some old British guy."</p><p>Will's eyes narrow.</p><p>"Hair color?"</p><p>It seems like a weird question to Thad until it dawns on him why it matters. Both Alfred and Wintergreen are British, and they'd be described by a stranger similarly. While it's not a sure thing, their hair color would be the easiest way to distinguish them.</p><p>"White."</p><p>Will curses, jamming his finger to his ear and going on comms.</p><p>"Barbara. Tell the other team there might be a Wintergreen running around."</p><p>"Can't," she says. "I've lost contact with the entire other team. They cut off when they went into the Monarch, and I'm not sure they realize it."</p><p>"We need to get Damian," Ra's snaps, and Will glances to him, taking a deep breath before looking back to Rose.</p><p>"We don't have time for this. Are you coming with us, or are you staying here?"</p><p>"She can stay here," Barry says. "Ra's is right; we need to go, and we can't trust her not to betray us."</p><p>Will clearly doesn't want to leave her, but Thad has to agree: she doesn't appear to be in any danger right then, so leaving her where she is probably the best plan.</p><p>Even if Will clearly doesn't like it.</p><p>Thad plants his hands on Will's torso, pushing at him to get him to go, and after a moment he does, leaving the room behind.</p><p>Thad closes the door, mentally noting which one it is, and then nods towards the stairs down.</p><p>"Careful," Ra's says. He's leading now, leading them through the ground floor and then down once more.</p><p>The doorway to the basement is all wrong. At the bottom of the stairs is a door that <em>clearly</em> isn't supposed to be there. Too new. Too durable.</p><p>"That's why I can't hear," Will says. "They might be able to hear us talking, but heartbeats... too low." He hesitates, staring at the door, and then glances among the group. "Plan?"</p><p>"Go through, get jumped," Ra's mutters under his breath. "He's close."</p><p>Will draws Deathstroke, and half-turns to look Thad in the eye.</p><p>"Behind me. And <em>careful," </em>he adds. "Your safety comes first. If things get messy, Thad... I want you to run."</p><p>"He'll be fine," Barry chips in. "We've got plenty of good fighters here. We'll take them down in no time." He flashes a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and no one smiles back.</p><p>"No time like the present," Will says. He takes a deep breath, centers himself with the door, and then with all the grace and skill of someone who has kicked a <em>lot</em> of doors open, slams his foot into the door, breaking it down in one go.</p><p>And then everything goes to hell.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Jason / 3:30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It takes a lot of effort not to shout to Slade as he crosses the stage. It's a stupid, awful idea: as far as they know, Wintergreen's dead, and they're literally fighting a small army of people who look just like their loved ones. Why not Billy? Why wouldn't <em>he</em> be one?</p><p>Only Slade must know that. He must recognize the danger. And he's approaching anyway.</p><p>Jason can't decide if he's ignoring the reality, or if he's just hopeful that the obvious trap isn't actually an obvious trap.</p><p>He's so focused on the scene playing out on the stage, so intent on watching what's happening—Slade looks like he's just been stabbed, but that isn't likely to slow him down—that Jason almost misses the person coming at him.</p><p>He's not flying, opting instead to stay on his feet and keep the fact that he can fly at all as a surprise, and is instead leaning over the edge of the second story balcony, watching the drama playing out on the stage. It's only the slightest bit of movement to his left that gets him out of the way in time, his entire body jerking to the side just in time to missing a punch that would have hit him square in the face.</p><p>He reels backwards, and his opponent rotates with the punch, closing the distance lightning fast.</p><p>It's impossible to tell who his attacker actually <em>is,</em> but the Arkham Knight armor is difficult to miss. It's almost picture-perfect what he used to wear, letting Jason take it all in even as he goes on the defensive, using his increased maneuverability to get out of the way of his opponents blows.</p><p>One blow nearly <em>does </em>hit him, just missing before hitting the wall behind Jason, throwing shards of brick and a spray of dust.</p><p>Jason can't decide if the wall is weaker than he expected, or if the other Jason is working with a level of power he isn't used to. They don't even seem to react to what must have been painful, not making a noise as they follow Jason closely.</p><p>Jason tries to end the fight in the most merciful way possible.</p><p>"Woah there," he says, skipping out of the way of another too-strong blow. "We don't need to fight."</p><p>No response. Jason has, if he's counting right, all the cards. His suit's better than the Arkham Knight armor ever was, and if he's right about things—if he Jason in there is more or less what he <em>used</em> to be—then he's more together. Better trained. There's nothing the other Jason has that he doesn't. Even if he manages to hit, the Ikon suit will simply absorb the blow.</p><p>So he has time.</p><p>"I don't know who put you up to this, but doing this isn't going to—" He ducks under a swing, noting the way his opponents moves continue to speed up. He's getting frustrated. More wild with his punches. "It isn't going to change anything. I don't want to fight you. If I can, I'd prefer to help you."</p><p>Maybe it won't ever matter. Maybe, when he wins, this Jason will go back to his old world, and his old world will fade away the way it's supposed to. But the fact is that nothing about that is guaranteed, and Jason would much rather send him home a lot more <em>together</em> than he is right then. More in control.</p><p>Somewhere behind him comes a hauntingly familiar laugh. It chills Jason down to his bones, and he's too slow to dodge the next blow. The Arkham Knight's fist hits his chest, but the actual impact is downright nonexistent. He simply doesn't have the power to punch through the Ikon suit.</p><p>"I can't—" The Knight's voice sounds raspy, confused. He reels back, staring at his fist, the armor showing signs of damage from juts the one blow.</p><p>"You can!" Comes a sing-song voice. The Joker. Jason would know his voice anywhere. It haunted his dreams for so long, and it feels like he's only just moved past it.</p><p>And now he's back. Now he's here to... to do something terrible, and Jason doesn't even want to think about it. He wants to be somewhere far, far away.</p><p>Hudson would have a fit if he knew Jason wasn't leaving immediately.</p><p>"You can, my boy," the Joker says as he strides out of the shadows, a smile on his face. Jason recognizes him by voice, but when he sees him he has to double take.</p><p>It isn't the Joker.</p><p>It's Bruce.</p><p>The man in front of him is without even a speck of doubt his father. He's wearing something that looks, even in the dim light, like the old Batsuit, his cowl pulled back to expose his face. His eyes are a bright, piercing green, and his hair is it's usual black with an unearthly green hue to it.</p><p>Jason takes a step back without meaning to.</p><p>The Arkham Knight leaps into action, pummeling Jason's torso, but the cat's already out of the bag, and Jason doesn't bother getting out of the way. The Ikon suit crackles with energy, absorbing each blow in turn, and Jason feels the impact no differently than if someone had reached out and patted him on the shoulder. He abandons the assault quickly, drawing out his twin guns, and tries that instead.</p><p>Those Jason feels, but they still don't hurt, and they certainly don't puncture. Bullets were, after all, what the Ikon suit was made for first and foremost.</p><p>"Useless!" The Knight yells, his voice filled with frustration. Someone else might wonder what he's talking about, but Jason knows without the shadow of a doubt that he's talking about himself.</p><p>He's been brought all this way and he can't do a single thing.</p><p>But he is doing <em>something: </em>his presence is enough to distract even Jason from what Bruce is doing, and when Jason turns his head to take in the location of his other opponent, Bruce—or Joker, Jason's brain keeps bouncing between the two—is right there.</p><p>He makes a little noise, reeling backwards and colliding with the Knight. The suit gives him considerable strength, enough to easily break out of the hold, but instead he lets the Knight pin him, keeping his cards close to his chest. It's also simply easier: easier to go along with it and find out what they want. Easier to play along. Easier not to have to think about the fact that <em>Bruce is the Joker.</em></p><p>"Where's Damian?"</p><p>He remembers that much. Remembers that he needs to keep up the illusion that they're still searching for Damian, that Ra's and Will and the others aren't going to find him right then.</p><p>"Oh Jason, why would we ever talk about him when we could talk about us?" Joker-Bruce says. "I had such high hopes, you know. Killing you would be enough to prove that my little knight in shining armor would be worth keeping around. This was, really, the <em>perfect</em> way to prove himself... only it seems like he's not doing so well, huh? Can't even get through that shiny suit of yours."</p><p>His eyes—a bright, unnatural green—sweep down over Jason's suit.</p><p>"Really, I can't believe you abandoned that armor I gave you."</p><p>He didn't. He didn't give him the armor and Jason clings to that. That's how the Joker works: he twists things up, convinces you that what you remember isn't even real.</p><p>"You never gave me the armor. I came up with it on my own," he spits, his heart beating furiously in his chest. He needs to hold to that. He needs to cling, however desperately, to the reality he remembers. Nothing the Joker says can change that. He knows what's real.</p><p>"Oh, you made it," the Joker agrees. "But I lead you through the process. I was the brains of the operation, since yours don't work so well." He reaches out, hand passing far too close to Jason's head, and then raps his knuckles against the Knight's helmet.</p><p>The Knight says nothing.</p><p>"Imagine my surprise when I got here and found out I was dead! A real shame, I have to say. A travesty, really. But that's just fine—this is a do-over, after all. My boy and I get a second chance."</p><p>Somewhere deep down, Jason suddenly <em>understands.</em> He knows what he has to do. There are a million ways to beat the two of them, but only one way to win, and in his mind all that remains is the path he has to walk to get there.</p><p>"He isn't your boy," Jason says.</p><p>He doesn't want to hurt the Knight. He's a pitiable figure, a man who should be so terrifying and dangerous and instead just manages to be sad. He's lost everything, his life controlled by the man who tortured him wearing the body of his father like a suit. Everything about his life is wretched, and neither sending him home beaten nor putting an end to him will bring Jason any closure.</p><p>But something else will.</p><p>"Oh, <em>you</em> might not have been my boy since I went and died, but he is. He knows how things are." He holds up his hand, snapping his fingers, and the Knight releases Jason, heading straight to the Joker's side.</p><p>He's not Bruce. Just the Joker.</p><p>"You know this is wrong," Jason says simply. He stands tall, confidence coming from places he didn't know exist. He doesn't know how Slade's doing, or where Bruce is, but he knows how to win. He knows how to <em>succeed.</em> "You know he's not Bruce. The person Bruce was is gone."</p><p>He has to assume things played out similarly up to a point. Did Slade never save him and help him reconcile? Or did he reconcile, only to have Bruce be fully turned? The rest, though, is easy enough to follow: the Arkham Knight staying with Joker-Bruce, trapped in his own personal hell and unable to reconcile the differences between the two men.</p><p>Everything all twisted up and rotten to the core.</p><p>"Kill him," the Joker says, snapping his fingers, and the Knight lunges forward.</p><p>The Joker has to know it's a pointless fight. Jason has ever advantage, and it takes him a minimum of effort to deal with the Knight's assault. But then the Joker has always underestimated Jason. He has always, without question, assumed that his control is absolute.</p><p>The Joker wants him to kill the Arkham Knight. He'll make them fight until one of them is dead, and Jason isn't going to let that happen.</p><p>"Everyone in the family cares about you," Jason says. "They didn't know you were still alive. They thought you'd died that day the Joker took you to Arkham. They mourned for you. Buried you. And when I came back, they accepted me. They loved me. They're my <em>family."</em></p><p>There's no obvious sign any of it is getting through to him. No indication that he's doing anything other than yelling into the wind as they two face off, the Joker simply standing by and watching, a smile on his face.</p><p>He doesn't doubt his control for a moment. But Jason broke away, and he knows that the Arkham Knight can to. He <em>knows</em> there's another way.</p><p>"You know what he's doing to Gotham. You know the hurt he's caused, the pain he's inflicted. Bruce Wayne is gone, but you're still here, and you can still be what Gotham needs. You can still stop him."</p><p>Jason kicks the feet out from under the knight and uses the time to change the field of battle. Fighting along the upper walkway isn't what he wants, so he turns, retreating closer to the Joker. The Joker frowns for once, drawing back and away, but Jason isn't letting him go; instead, he gets closer and closer, refusing to let him get away.</p><p>What was once a one-on-one is very suddenly a three person fight. Joker has no choice but to engage, unable to stay completely clear with where he's located. It's exactly what Jason wants, even if it means having to fend off a green-edged batarang that comes his way. He <em>wants</em> Joker to be fighting. Fighting feels normal. Talking with the Joker is hard, but fighting?</p><p>Fighting he can do.</p><p>"You know this isn't what you want," Jason calls. The fight is harder with the two of them, but they clearly aren't used to fighting side by side. They aren't quite bumping into each other, but there's plenty of moments where one of them (usually Jason) has to back of to let the other move in.</p><p>Every second that ticks by, Jason's confidence grows. He expected more fear, facing down with the Joker, but instead he's driven by something greater than himself. He doesn't want to kill the Knight. He wants to help him, and he knows the only way to do that.</p><p>Sometimes saving people doesn't mean actually helping them.</p><p>Sometimes it means giving people the chance to save themselves.</p><p>"You know it's the truth. It's eating you alive, knowing that I'm right. You know that isn't Bruce. You know the Joker doesn't care for you. He's got you all twisted up, but you know how to stop this."</p><p>The Knight fires off three quick shots in succession, and Jason ducks, wary of his head. He knows, on a purely intellectual level, that the suit's barrier protects his head, but the fact is that the top of his head <em>is</em> exposed, and it sure doesn't <em>feel</em> protected.</p><p>The Knight's yell is, to Jason, as pained as it is agnry.</p><p>"You don't know me!"</p><p>It's exactly what Jason needs.</p><p>He reaches up, pulling the mask down, and the Knight freezes, staring at Jason's face. Staring at his <em>own</em> face. Even with the differences they must have, he clearly recognizes what he's looking at, and Jason's expression is tense as he stares down the man who, in another world, <em>is</em> him.</p><p>"You don't have to be his puppet."</p><p>The Arkham Knight raises one of his guns, points it at Jason, and fires.</p><p>The bullet zips past Jason's cheek, hardly more than a hair's breadth away. Jason is intimately familiar with the sound of bullets hitting flesh, and he knows exactly what's happened without even turning to look.</p><p>A body hits the floor behind him. The Knight stands perfectly still, gun still aimed, frozen.</p><p>It feels like a million years pass from the moment the trigger is pulled. A thousand lifetimes, over and over, the magnitude of it hard to even comprehend.</p><p>It isn't him, but at the same time, it <em>is.</em></p><p>He's killed the Joker.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Joey / 3:35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> There's something deeply nerve-wracking about watching Ivy move. It's not the way she's moving, so much as the fact that she's moving with such an obvious sense of purpose, and Joey has no clear idea what that purpose is. Is Ivy really just going to help because someone burned away plant life? Is she doing them to say thanks, because she feels she owes them?</p><p>Or is there some other, more sinister purpose?</p><p>That feeling only deepens when they reach the end of the forest where it meets the buildings that were once Old Gotham. The construction was old even before it was claimed as part of Arkham City, already starting to degrade and in desperate need of repair or replacement. The plant life pressed up against the closest building—a simple three story apartment block—comes alive, and there's a deafening noise as the building begins to collapse.</p><p>Chunks of stone and wood and <em>dust</em> billows up, and Joey reaches down, pulling his shirt over his face as a rudimentary mask. He feels unprepared for whatever's coming, lacking any sort of armor, and no one else looks much better. Dick and Duke have their own costumes, but they've always favored lighter year that allows them to be more agile on the rooftops of Bludhaven. Their gear won't hold up to serious damage, and what Ivy is doing right then is serious damage.</p><p>Michael curses, squinting out the front windshield. The cloud of dust and debris is too thick to see through, and he slams to a halt before they reach it, suddenly unable to progress. Through it, Joey can see things moving: trees swaying, and ivy that's climbed the structure seeming to stretch out to reach for more buildings to bring down.</p><p>"We're still pretty far away," Duke points out. "If we go at this speed we aren't going to get there for a while."</p><p>Which means they need to contact Ivy, which is... easier said than done. They're in the car, largely protected from the damage she's doing, but getting her attention means going outside, and it's very obvious none of them wants to do that.</p><p>"Fantastic," Dick mutters to his breath. "Guess it's going to be me."</p><p>Even just the brief moment it takes for Dick to leave the car lets in more dust than Joey's comfortable with, and he pulls back, trying to stay clear as Dick slams the door behind him and marches off into the mess. His outline is only barely visible, vanishing in the slowly settling dust, but Joey's pretty sure he just needs to find the nearest plant and tap it to get Ivy's attention.</p><p>He's proven right a short while later when Dick returns, Ivy following closely behind. She should be covered in the dust, but she's not, a fine veil of greenery wrapped losely around her to keep her away, and her smile looks more bright and alive than any that Joey's ever seen on her.</p><p>"Plenty of time to bulldoze later," she says from outside the car, barely loud enough to be heard. "Why don't you show me the way."</p><p>Dick doesn't rejoin them in the car until they've eased their way back onto a street, away from the mess, and gotten out of the dust. Only then does Dick vigorously clean himself off before sliding in. Ivy abandons the plant life that's been helping her travel, the asphalt making it harder to move, and simply climbs onto the top of the car, sitting down where she is.</p><p>"...Is she going to slide off?" Dick asks. Michael shrugs, and Dick takes that as the <em>maybe</em> it's no doubt intended to be, driving slower than he should and following Duke's directions.</p><p>They're not far from the center—featuring plenty of landmarks Joey recognizes—when they encounter trouble. There's a roadblock set up, obviously hastily, with chunks of stone hauled into the path to stop any vehicles. It's enough to stop <em>them,</em> and Dick stops, squinting at the barrier.</p><p>There's no sign of anyone <em>obvious,</em> but Joey spots movement on either side, and he reaches forward, gesturing towards them for Dick and Duke's benefit.</p><p>The car rocks, and a moment later Ivy steps forward, walking onto the hood of the car and then onto the road itself, hopping down. She's still not wearing anything, giving the whole car a <em>view,</em> and Dick sputters quietly.</p><p>"Should have asked her to put something on."</p><p>Joey's under the impression that Ivy's a bit beyond that. Things like <em>clothes</em> aren't something she cares about, and he's proven exactly right when their opponents step into the road.</p><p>Roman Sionis is hard to miss, the black of his mask visible even at a distance. His outfit is simple, a business suit with the jacket discarded and the sleeves pulled up, and he's not alone: he has a number of men with him, each wearing a much more simple version of his own mask. Their version only covers the top of their face, leaving their jaw exposed and more clearly differentiating Roman from his men.</p><p>Joey's pretty sure they're all about to get absolutely <em>destroyed,</em> but Joey doesn't even have time to vocalize that thought before a bullet cracks right through the windshield, missing him by less than a foot.</p><p>Joey ducks down. He's not the only one; everyone hits the deck as fast as they can, and it's from the ground that Joey gets to hear—but not see—what happens next.</p><p>There are more gunshots. There's a brief lull, where Joey imagines Roman's men are taking stock of the situation, or maybe reloading, and then someone screams.</p><p>And then another person screams. There's a noise that Joey's come to associate with asphalt  cracking as some root heaves itself out of the earth, and then there's even <em>more</em> screaming.</p><p>The screams are still going when someone knocks at the car's side window, and Joey peeks up to find Ivy there.</p><p>He hesitates, then leans up, pressing the button to bring the window down, and Ivy's voice is sugary sweet.</p><p>"The people shooting at you, the ones working for Black Mask—they're just going to go back to their own world, right?"</p><p>"Uh... yeah?" Dick says. "If the person they came through with gets sent back, they should go with them."</p><p>"Wonder if we're going to have a bunch of bodies left over," Duke mutters. "What about items?"</p><p>They don't get to speculate about how that may or may not work, because Ivy pulls away, out of sight, and then a moment later the screaming stops abruptly.</p><p><em>Kind of don't want to look,</em> Joey signs to Michael, who offers a nod of agreement.</p><p>Someone knocks at <em>his</em> window, and Joey stills, peeking behind him to find Ivy waiting.</p><p>"Where am I going?"</p><p>Joey lifts himself up, prepared for whatever carnage Ivy's rained down on Roman and his men, but there's no carnage to be seen. Sure, the road's been ripped up, and there's roots and plant life everywhere that wasn't there before, but there's not even a drop of blood.</p><p>Joey decides, very firmly, not to ask.</p><p>"Monarch Theater's that way," Dick says, pointing down one street.</p><p>Duke, however, dissents. He turns his head, pointing towards a different road, and nods his head.</p><p>"Anchor's that way," he says.</p><p><em>That's</em> interesting. It means that whoever's behind the whole thing is storing the anchor off site, probably as an insurance measure. Assuming it is Bruce—the evil one, that is—it's a very <em>Bruce move.</em> He'll face them in the theater, and even if he loses, his insurance is safely away.</p><p>A good plan that's been absolutely ruined by Duke, assuming his understanding of what he's seeing is correct.</p><p>"Okay," Michael says. "We're going after the anchor, then?"</p><p>Ivy doesn't climb back onto the car. Instead, she takes advantage of the roots beneath the road, travelling just <em>behind</em>them as they set off.</p><p>"Not far now," Duke mutters under his breath.</p><p>Joey doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Damian / 3:35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door in front of Damian rips open, kicked in by a considerable amount of force. His mouth is gagged, preventing him from shouting a warning, but it doesn't really matter anyway: his rescuers aren't stupid, and they know to expect violence. Will comes through first, the Ikon suit taking three quick shots from the man standing just over Damian's shoulder, and he doesn't fall back even under fire, advancing into the room and letting his allies fall in behind him.</p><p>The basement is modestly sized, maybe fifteen feet by ten feet, and largely empty. Really, everything that might have been importance once upon a time has been shoved up against the walls, leaving them space to fight in. The only thing that <em>matters</em> is Damian, tied to a chair and unable to move.</p><p>Well, that and the people who kidnapped him.</p><p>Somewhere behind him, the alternate versions of Slade and Thad stand, already ready to go. They've been waiting for Damian's <em>rescuers</em> to show up, standing guard somewhat impatiently. Slade's better at it, more under control than most, but Thad?</p><p>Thad's been bouncing off the walls from the world go, frustrated and blatantly impatient. He'd made no attempt to hide it from Damian, either not caring if Damian saw, or simply not thinking it would matter if he did. Maybe he's expecting Damian to die. Maybe that's why he doesn't care.</p><p>Or maybe he's just the sort of person who <em>never </em>cares.</p><p>"Oh thank Rao!" The other Thad yells behind him, and then faster than Damian can even process, Thad is zipping forward. He clearly expects no resistance, hitting Will hard, his blows bouncing off the Ikon suit's shield, but the sudden appearance of two blurs zipping towards him causes him to back off immediately.</p><p>He clearly wasn't expecting resistance, but Barry and Thad—the <em>real</em> Thad—aren't going to let him run wild.</p><p>The Kryptonian Thad—the one who doesn't even <em>call himself </em>Thad—scowls at them.</p><p>"I should have known," he mutters under his breath in the brief lull that follows as the two sides size each other up. "You always just have to get in my way."</p><p>"Let him go!" Thad says, looking just as mad as his counterpart for a moment. Thad's frustration is obvious, his hands balled into fists as he stares down the boy across from him.</p><p>The other Slade, on the other hand, is unwilling to talk.</p><p>Damian still hasn't seen what he looks like, and a part of him is thankful for that. He doesn't have to glimpse beneath the helmet and try to reconcile the man that is his father with the man who's now holding him hostage. The man—Deathstroke, because he's only ever been called that around Damian—is clad in heavy armor, recognizable really only in the color scheme (orange and black) and the obvious split nature of his helmet, the left side pure black without any sort of eye-hole. Apparently having taken the whole thing in, he darts forward, making a quick blow to test Will's defenses. Will's own sword is in his hand as fast as Damian can blink, and he parries, pushing the sword aside.</p><p>It feels obvious to Damian that his side should win. Will should easily be able to beat the man in the armor, the Ikon suit carrying him through, and even if they <em>were</em> evenly matched, Thad and Barry mean it's two against one. When they beat the other Thad, they'll be able to help Will, and then everything will work out just fine.</p><p>But of course it isn't that simple.</p><p>Thad, to Damian's horror, is <em>slow, </em>or at least slower than his counterpart. He knocks aside Thad's blows as if he were operating at a normal speed, and Damian can <em>see</em> the look of horror dawning on Thad's face as he realizes how outclassed he is.</p><p>Barry does a bit better, but he's obviously trying not to <em>hurt</em> his opponent, and the other Thad isn't giving him the same courtesy. He's downright <em>vicious, </em>producing something that looks like a small dagger from his boot and stabbing at Barry. Barry dodges, but just barely, and he's so occupied reaching out to haul Thad away from the followup attack that he doesn't have any time to actually push for his <em>own</em> attack.</p><p>Will isn't doing much better. He has a lot more experience fighting <em>equals</em> than the others do, but his opponent is still a serious threat. Will gives ground easily, feeling out both his enemy <em>and</em> the swords he's carrying, and as Damian watches Will seems to make a mistake, letting a blow in he could have otherwise blocked. It nicks his arm, and to Damian's ever growing horror, the tip of the sword comes away bloody.</p><p>The sword's cut through the Ikon suit. It's not supposed to be able to do that; that's the whole <em>point</em> of the suit. But a moment later, he realizes he's underestimated Will. It wasn't a mistake, but a calculated choice, a smile flickering off his face.</p><p>"Inertron swords? Feels kind of like cheating."</p><p>"Wouldn't be cheating if someone wasn't wearing that suit, now would it?" Deathstroke snipes back, and then they're lost in a flash of swords.</p><p>The fight's almost too fast for Damian to keep track of, and the speedsters are making it that much harder to follow. Every time Damian manages, Thad or Barry flashes by, and then he's lost it again.</p><p>They're fighting for him—<em>just</em> to save him—and he can't even follow what's going on. He feels a growing sense of frustration, and while he knows that the bulk of it is his own helplessness, unable to speak, let alone help, he knows there's something else to it. He feels like something's scratching at the back of his brain, some truth he's yet to witness.</p><p>And then it hits him.</p><p>
  <em>Where is Ra's?</em>
</p><p>He has no doubt that Will and Thad were with him to get there. There's no way they could have <em>just so happened</em> to locate the exact basement Damian's been stored in otherwise. Ra's must have come with them, and yet there's no sign of him. Shouldn't he be there? Shouldn't he be helping?</p><p>The frustration gets to him, and Damian squeezes his eyes closed, forcing himself to take deep, steadying breaths. Anything to calm his racing heart. Anything to try and stop how absolutely helpless he feels. He can <em>hear</em> the battle, and he wishes he could shut that out. He's too familiar with the noises, recognizes the sound of fists hitting flesh, recognizes the sharp noise of a sword sliding across the stone wall of the basement.</p><p>He is helpless. He is helpless and there's nothing he can do but sit and wait and—</p><p>A wall caves in, and there's a deafening <em>roar,</em> an almost animalisitic bellow.</p><p>Something grabs the chair. Damian's heart skips a beat—maybe two—as he's suddenly rendered horizontal. There's another deafening roar that leaves Damian's ears ringing, and his eyes snap open only to find nothing. He's lying on the ground, still bound to the chair. Even turning his head, he can't see anything more than quick glimpses of feet, mostly little more than blurs, and Damian lets out a frustrated noise, his eyes suddenly wet with tears.</p><p>He just feels so helpless.</p><p>Something grabs at the back of his chair and he is suddenly hauled upwards. It's confusing and disorienting, and Damian feels like he's been tossed around more than any one person should ever be. He's set down and has just enough frame of reference to realize that Thad and Barry have put themselves between him and Thad, and Will's doing the same on the other side.</p><p>And Ra's is behind him, cutting him lose. A part of the wall's been knocked in, and a significant portion of the room is taken up by the massive red creature that Ra's seems to use as a mount. <em>Goliath,</em> apparently. Damian's wanted to talk about it, but there hasn't been time.</p><p>There's not time right now then, either.</p><p>The other Thad lets out a howl of rage and tries to get past, only to have Thad block them. He takes the hit intended for Damian, standing strong as his opponent backs off. The addition of Ra's and Goliath means they're suddenly outnumbered, and while Deathstroke's face is hidden, the other Thad's isn't. His anger and frustration is plain to see, and his ever increasing desperation is as well.</p><p>It happens so fast. Too fast, even. The other Thad slams forwards, blurring towards Damian. He's strong enough to knock the real Thad aside, sending him spinning to the floor, and Will reacts, sidestepping and using the full reach of his sword to force the furious speedster to back off.</p><p>It's a ploy, the consequences of which happen so fast that Damian doesn't even have time to register them. No matter how much training he has, he is only human. He cannot perform the superhuman feats that those around him are. He has only enough time to reel backwards as Deathstroke takes advantage of Will's mistake.</p><p>He is going to die. He is going to be skewered by one of those swords that's strong enough to cut through even the Ikon suit.</p><p>It feels almost like a mercy, because Damian doesn't have enough time to fully panic. He can't even be genuinely horrified by what's happening, because as soon as his brain realizes, it's over.</p><p>Ra's steps in front of him, and the sword, intended for Damian, goes through him instead.</p><p>Damian can only half see what's happening, Ra's body blocking the fight. There's a noise of pure, unadulterated rage and a <em>snap</em> that Damian knows that someone just had a big, study bone broken, and then more noises, the flurry of sudden battle.</p><p>Thad is suddenly there, in front of him, checking for wounds.</p><p>"Not me," Damian blurts but the message is lost. He's still gagged. He hasn't— his hands are free but it's all happening so <em>fast, </em>and—</p><p>Thad hugs him, and then he's gone, helping Ra's as he eases him down to his feet.</p><p>There is a vicious <em>crack</em> that must be the shattering of Deathstroke's armor, and then silence.</p><p>Or almost silence. Across the room someone is definitely crying, big, snivelling, miserable tears. Damian does not feel present right then. He feels very, very far away.</p><p>He isn't harmed, but it still seems to take a lifetime to reach up, pulling the gag off. He's free. He's untied. He could do anything or nothing and everything feels <em>wrong.</em></p><p>Will is suddenly there. His suit is splattered with blood, but he doesn't hesitate to bend down, pulling Damian into a hug before doing a quick assessment for any injuries. His manor is almost identical to Thad, except Thad just checked and called it a day, where as Will forces him to sit down.</p><p>"You're in shock," Will says very matter of factly.</p><p>He's wrong, and Damian doesn't hesitate to tell him so.</p><p>"I wasn't injured. Circulatory shock—"</p><p>"Wrong kind of shock," Will says. "Acute stress disorder."</p><p>"I've been in combat before."</p><p>Even so, he knows it's correct. He feels very unlike himself. Faint, even.</p><p>"Yeah, well, your heart rate's dropped and I'm going to need you to stay right there while I check on Ra's. Thad?"</p><p>Thad is suddenly there and Damian squeezes his eyes shut. He does not want to see. He doesn't want to <em>think.</em></p><p>Thad pats his back.</p><p>"What happened?" Damian asks. Someone—Damian assumes it must be the other Thad—is still crying. Deathstroke, however, is completely silent. Obviously disabled, somehow.</p><p>"You almost got stabbed," Thad says, entirely unhelpfully. "Ra's stepped in front of you, and then... Uhm, Dad went a bit ballistic."</p><p>"Ballistic how?" Damian asks, opening his eyes warily. He leans, trying to see, but Thad simply leans with him, blocking his view.</p><p>"Uh," Thad says unhelpfully, "maybe it would be better not to talk about that." He looks a little bit green at the idea.</p><p>"We'll talk about it later," Will says. "Damian, you're going to need to come here."</p><p>Damian tries to push himself to his feet, but apparently he wobbles a bit too much for Will, who loops an arm around him. The big red thing—Goliath—moves as they do, and the way it positions itself makes Damian think it's been ordered to block the view, because he <em>still</em> can't see what happened on the far side.</p><p>He can see what happened to Ra's, though. </p><p>Deathstroke's sword has carved a bloody path through him. It's been covered, hidden from sight as his own robes have been bunched up to provide pressure, but there's so much <em>blood</em> and Ra's looks so pale. His mask is off, set down beside him, and his breathing is unsteady.</p><p>In another world, he would go to the pit. He'd be reborn without injury.</p><p>But this world doesn't have a pit, and Damian knows he's dying.</p><p>Apparently his grim realization shows on his face, because Ra's offers a pained smile as Damian carefully bends down beside him.</p><p>"You can relax," Ra's says, voice raspy. "This was always going to happen."</p><p>"There's a difference between going home and fading away and dying in pain," Damian says. He doesn't know why he's so upset. Ra's isn't him. Ra's is just... just a temporary ally he's only just met.</p><p>So why does it hurt so much?</p><p>"No," Ra's corrects. Will turns away, leaving them to relative privacy. Barry and Thad stand off to the side, but both seem to be looking away. "It was always going to be <em>this</em> way. If you win and break the anchor, I get sent home. But if I die, then the things that came with me stay."</p><p>He has to stop there, taking a deep, painful breath. Even talking is almost too much for him, but he's doing it anyway.</p><p>"I took the deal so I could get Goliath out. My world is... it won't last, no matter what happens here. I had to die so he could stay, the same way my body will. I wanted someone who'd take care of him, so—" He apparently can't find the words, reaching up to take Damian's hand and giving it a pathetically weak squeeze, so minute that Damian can barely feel it.</p><p>"I'll take care of him," Damian says, his voice cracking. he does not want Ra's to die. Ra's feels like family, a connection to a part that he's lost. But it's too late. Ra's took the blow knowing it would kill him, and he doesn't seem even <em>mildly</em> upset about it.</p><p>It feels like Damian should be upset on his behalf.</p><p>Will returns, standing over his shoulder. He doesn't say it, but Damian knows what he intends anyway. It's time to say goodbye.</p><p>"I'll take care of him," Damian says again, eyes wet even though he's trying to be strong. Ra's nods, grip ever weaker, and Will bends down, joining him on the floor. He reaches out, hand covering Ra's throat, and does the kind thing: Will's strong and skilled enough to cut off blood flow to Ra's brain, letting him slip into unconsciousness easily.</p><p>He will die either way, but Will's careful to let him go without the agony his last few minutes should be.</p><p>They stay at Ra's side until he passes, and only then does Damian truly break.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Bruce / 3:35</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Going to warn here for some (not explicitly described) gore and violence. Nothing you wouldn't see in a modern Batman comic.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The layout of the Monarch Theatre is simple. There's a wide open area, flat and empty, leading up to a raised stage. That's where the seats were once, but they've all been torn out, leaving a mess behind. The first story was for the average person, but the second story was, once upon a time, intended for a <em>higher class</em> of patron. There are boxes, and if Bruce cares to look he'll recognize old and deeply familiar names there. His family had a box there, once upon a time, a place to watch whatever show was being put on. While there's a large movie screen up on the stage now, dirty and stained with age, the Monarch was originally intended for live performance, and the layout reflects that.</p><p>As they enter, Slade heads right, heading for the stage. Jason heads left, looping around by the boxes.</p><p>Bruce, on the other hand, takes a different route.</p><p>One of his opponents is, after all himself, and it feels patently obvious to him where he should go to find his counterpart. He's considered countless possibilities for what he could be facing, but in the end he always comes back to the same place.</p><p>The Joker.</p><p>There's no solid evidence of that, no <em>proof,</em> but even so it feels like an absolute certainty. Of <em>course</em> it would be the Joker he'd have to face down in the end. Of <em>course</em> that's where it would all lead.</p><p>So much of the last four hours has been about people having to stare down the parts of themselves they wish they could ignore, and there's no way he'd be so lucky as to be spared from it.</p><p>Jason ducks into the back halls where the staff would have traveled, and Bruce instead takes the long, painful walk around the theater's upper level to the far side.</p><p>He has not walked this particular path in a long, long time. Not since he was a boy. Not since <em>The Wayne's</em> last visited the Monarch that fateful night.</p><p>He feels like a ghost as he walks towards the right door, the one with <em>Wayne</em> still on the nameplate. Has anyone even been inside since they last left? The Monarch kept the box for him, and then it went out of business and didn't really matter. Maybe it was cleaned, but he can no longer really tell the timeline involved. How long since the Monarch closed? How long after his parents death was that?</p><p>He hesitates at the door, hand outstretched. It feels so easy and yet so hard. People have said there were <em>old ghosts</em> in Park Row, and it is here, on the threshold of the last place he can remember being happy as a child, that he feels them most strongly.</p><p>He opens the door.</p><p>The box is, in many ways, as he remembers it. Eight seats total, in two neat little rows.</p><p>There is nothing else there.</p><p>Bruce seems to deflate almost instantly, his head swirling through options. He was so <em>absolutely</em> sure that he was correct, that he was going to meet his counterpart here, and now that he's arrived and found the balcony empty he doesn't know what to do with himself. What other assumptions has he made? What other errors in his thinking?</p><p>There are probably plenty, and he's not even sure where to start.</p><p>He steps inside, leaving the door open behind him, and looks around. There's no note left on his old seat, no footprints in the dust. He is the first person who has been there in years, his error feeling more and more obvious. Why did he assume? Why was he so <em>sure</em> that any other Bruce would have the same flair for the dramatic, the same exact memories? Maybe the other Bruce's parents didn't even die, or maybe they died somewhere else. There are a million possibilities and each of them is equally viable.</p><p>Stupid.</p><p>He pushes aside his irritation, leaning out over the railing to take things in. Someone—Jason, probably—is fighting off in the distance. Bruce can hear at least one gun, but the sound is muffled. Jason's behind a wall, probably, and Bruce's first instinct is to go help him.</p><p>He masters that instinct, because he has a much more pressing issue in front of him.</p><p>Down on the stage, Slade is engaged in a battle that Bruce is struggling to wrap his head around. He isn't fighting another Slade, or an evil Bruce, or even an evil Jason.</p><p>He's fighting <em>an evil Wintergreen.</em></p><p>The thought that <em>Wintergreen </em>might be the one who was dangerous had never even crossed his mind. Why would it? Wintergreen has never been anything other than a kindly old man. He's practically <em>Alfred. </em>Sure, he has combat skills (he <em>was</em> in the military, way back when), but he doesn't <em>fight.</em></p><p>He's not a killer.</p><p>And yet, even as Bruce watches, he realizes that not only is Wintergreen <em>fighting </em>Slade, he's winning.</p><p>Slade is bleeding heavily from a wound to his side, and if the blood running down his armor is any indication, it isn't closing up properly. Maybe he's just being pressed too hard, but <em>something</em> is clearly going on, the tip of his sword beginning to droop.</p><p>Bruce does the only thing he can. Jason, he's sure, will find a way to win. Slade, on the other hand, is right in front of him and blatantly struggling, and it's his husband that needs his focus right then.</p><p>He hops the balcony, the wind catching his cap as he makes a short, controlled glide to the stage... right into Wintergreen.</p><p>Or that's the plan.</p><p>Wintergreen, however, has something else in mind. Moments before Bruce hits, Wintergreen spins, grabbing Bruce's foot and hauling on it. Rather than kicking Wintergreen in the back, Bruce instead finds himself snatched out of the air and flung at Slade like the world's most lopsided shotput.</p><p>Slade could get out of the way. Even injured, he's that agile. Instead, he holds himself in such a way as to soften Bruce's blow, catching him and keeping the two from going down completely.</p><p>Wintergreen doesn't even give them a moment to recover. Slade actually has to <em>drop</em> Bruce just to get out of the way of a shot, and Bruce rolls across the floor, leaping to his feet.</p><p>Slade shouldn't be having trouble with Wintergreen. Slade's in his full Gotham Knight armor. He has a <em>sword</em> and <em>guns</em> and <em>equipment.</em></p><p>Wintergreen, on the other hand, has <em>a</em> gun and what looks like a tactical vest under his ripped-up shirt. He should not, in any circumstances, be able to keep up.</p><p>But he is. He doesn't seem even slightly weary as he goes on the attack again, his focus entirely on Slade. Bruce doesn't doubt why: Slade is injured, and if Wintergreen can take him out early, he'll have an easier time handling Bruce.</p><p>He just can't let that happen.</p><p>He closes the distance, forcing Wintergreen to deal with <em>both</em> of them, and the distraction is enough to let Slade get lucky. He lands a kick to Wintergreen's midsection, launching him across the stage.</p><p>More importantly, Wintergreen's gun clatters to the stage, and Slade dives for it. Wintergreen, to Bruce's immense surprise, doesn't try and get it back, instead retreating to the wings. Bruce doesn't want to know what he has hiding there, and he keeps his focus on Wintergreen, sparing only the tiniest glance to watch as Slade breaks the gun, preventing it from being reused.</p><p>Wintergreen, in a move that Bruce thinks Alfred would be proud of, emerges with <em>a fucking sword.</em></p><p>It's an old thing, a dueling sabre that Bruce almost would have taken as <em>normal</em> if not for the strange sheen to the blade. He has no idea what kind of metal it's made of, but he has little doubt it'll cut anything in front of it to ribbons.</p><p>Wintergreen takes a perfect dueling stance, ready to go, and cocks his head at Slade. Slade's standing, but he doesn't seem like he should be, his hand pressed to his wound as he applies pressure. His own sword hangs limp at his side.</p><p>"Why don't we do this like gentlemen," Wintergreen says. "A duel."</p><p>A <em>duel?</em></p><p>Bruce almost wants to reject the offer. They'll do better if Wintergreen has to fight both of them, if they can push for him to be off balance.</p><p>"I'll even throw in a bonus offer. I don't have any particular issue with Mr. Wayne. The only thing <em>I </em>care about is putting you into the ground, Slade. Once you're dead, my position is assured."</p><p>"You killed Billy," Slade snaps, anger winning out over exhaustion. <em>"That </em>wasn't necessary."</p><p>"That was a matter of principle, and he was quite reluctant to provide us with the information we needed. Unfortunately, <em>my</em> Slade has a notoriously short temper. What happened was regrettable." His eyes seem to glint, and he shifts position, sword held out in front of him. "Now, my deal?"</p><p>Slade is going to take it. They've both had enough of a fight to feel out how strong Wintergreen is, how fast. Bruce hasn't fought him as much, but the lack of obvious injury tells a story that he doesn't like. With Slade's strength flagging, their odds are sinking by the moment. He is, for some reason Bruce cannot fathom, still bleeding.</p><p>So Slade is willing to fall on his sword—almost <em>literally</em>—to save everyone else.</p><p>Of course, Bruce has no intention of letting him do any such thing.</p><p>Slade straightens up, taking a step forward, and Bruce cuts him off. Slade's clearly intending Bruce to try and stop him, which is the only reason Bruce manages what he tries so easily. Rather than <em>stopping</em> Slade, he grabs his wrist, twisting it just so to force Slade to release it. The moment it drops, he catches the handle of Slade's sword, pulling it away.</p><p>"Bruce," Slade hisses through gritted teeth.</p><p>Bruce ignores him, turning on his heel and facing Wintergreen. Slade's sword—a simple, if stylized, ninjato—isn't exactly Bruce's preference, but it's absolutely something he can use.</p><p>Wintergreen raises an eyebrow, his head still cocked.</p><p>"My deal does not extend to you, Mr. Wayne. I'm afraid your world's Slade <em>does</em> have to die."</p><p>"And you're going to have to go through me, I'm afraid," Bruce says.</p><p>"Bruce," Slade hisses. "He's a goddamn master swordsman, you can't win. Just... just take the deal."</p><p>"Considering we're <em>married,</em> I expected you knew me better than that," Bruce says, adjusting his grip on the sword as he slides into a battle stance.</p><p>He'd prefer something else, but he knows how to use it. Kirigi trained him in all kinds of weapons, and he'd always favored a straight blade. He'll make do.</p><p>And it isn't as if he's expecting to win the fight. He just needs to stall him. At some point—hopefully soon—someone will come to help. Their bonds are their greatest strength against a force of stronger but disconnected opponents. Even when they're working together, their enemies aren't <em>coordinating,</em> and that's what they need to be taking advantage of.</p><p>"Well then," Wintergreen says, dropping his hand to tap the tip of his blade against the ground, starting the duel. "Have at it."</p><p>Bruce <em>has at it.</em></p><p>He steps forward, starting with a painfully simple horizontal slash, testing the range of Wintergreen's sword more than anything else. Wintergreen bats it aside, and Bruce steps back, just out of range before he can follow up.</p><p>Wintergreen doesn't. Instead, he cocks his head the other way as if seeing Bruce for the first time.</p><p>Slade is silent. It occurs to Bruce that, if he's remembering right, Slade has <em>never actually seen</em> Bruce in a real sword fight. Sure, he's seen him <em>with</em> a sword, and he's seen him spar with Damian, but sparring with Damian is leagues away from a real fight. Sparring, in general, can't possibly be compared with a fight to the death.</p><p>Bruce takes a breath, sizing Wintergreen up, and then strikes. Wintergreen appears to be at <em>least</em> as fast and strong as Slade himself, but Bruce has a great deal of experience with dealing not just with Slade, but with someone even <em>faster</em> than Slade. He's gotten used to reacting before his brain can even process what's happening, and that's exactly what happens as he dodges out of the way of a stab that would have taken off half his face. He ducks under it, foot kicking out, and the force is enough for Wintergreen to stumble slightly, backing off.</p><p>When he looks at Bruce again, it's clear he's no longer playing. Before, there was a flippancy to his actions. He did not believe he was in any sort of danger, so it was really just a matter of <em>how</em> he got to victory, not whether he'd get there at all.</p><p>Now that's in question. He completely ignores Slade, who's sunk down to his knees, his hand still pressed to his bloody side, and Bruce has to put Slade out of his mind entirely. He can't allow himself to think of it. He can't let his mind wander. The only thing that matters right then is him and Wintergreen.</p><p>The next strike is from Wintergreen, fast and almost desperate. It cuts through the air so quickly that Bruce hears the noise before he sees the blade, and he only just gets his sword up in time, letting Wintergreen's sword glance off his own.</p><p>It doesn't. Instead, it <em>chips his blade,</em> and Bruce quickly forces it back to keep his blade from splitting. He has no idea what Wintergreen's sword is made of, but he knows that it's terrifying. He can't get hit. If he does, he's going to lose something, and he has no doubt about his odds if it comes to that.</p><p>"You're better than I thought," Wintergreen says, his words tight. He isn't winded at all, but he too seems to realize that the longer things are drawn out, the better they are for Bruce. "But I suppose you have reason to be. Your husband, after all, appears to be dying."</p><p>"He'll live," Bruce snorts. He means it as a way to throw Wintergreen off, but when he says it he realizes that it's also the truth. He believes, without question, that Slade will be alright. He always has been before, and he always will be in the future.</p><p>Wintergreen opens his mouth to reply, and Bruce darts forward. He is a flurry, a maelstrom, and even with his enhanced attributes, Wintergreen is forced to retreat, parrying the majority of Bruce's blows as Bruce forces him ever backwards. He is furious and desperate, and refuses to give any sort of ground of his own. If he falls back, he'll be closer to Slade, and that's the last thing he needs.</p><p>"You'll die here," Bruce says, desperate to throw Wintergreen off. He doesn't plan to kill Wintergreen, but Wintergreen doesn't know that. He's a world apart, and Wintergreen <em>has</em> just stabbed Slade, causing him serious damage at the least. "Your entire cause will fall to nothing. Dust in the wind."</p><p>"That would require me to have a cause," Wintergreen snaps, getting a lucky thrust in. It slices through Bruce's armor like butter, but only that. His flesh is intact, although Bruce has to quickly pat himself down to be absolutely sure of that fact.</p><p>His armor means nothing. It's no defense against Wintergreen's sword, whatever it is. He considers shedding it, but his armor isn't meant to be removed quickly, and the act of doing so would inevitably leave him open for Wintergreen.</p><p>Plus, it's still a good defense against getting kicked in the knee.</p><p>They exchange blows once again, a flurry of motion, and Bruce knows that he's going to struggle. Wintergreen can clearly keep it up, but Bruce can't. Every second that ticks by he becomes more and more tired, exhaustion pressing in like shadows around a campfire. He cannot keep things up indefinitely. He needs something, <em>anything,</em> to change the momentum. To <em>win.</em></p><p>But he has nothing. He has no idea what to do. He's reliant on outside intervention, and Slade clearly isn't going to be able to help.</p><p>Jason, then. Jason is his only hope, his only desperate... what, anything?</p><p>He can't even think. Wintergreen comes at him and Bruce's brain is solely, wholly dedicated to the act of not getting stabbed. He is pushed back, and when they next cross blades, he's pushed back again, forced to withdraw even farther still when Wintergreen cracks his blade further.</p><p>How long before it fails? How long before it snaps and probably stabs Bruce in the process?</p><p>Fucking <em>fantastic.</em></p><p>He's wary of how close to the wings he's getting. The curtains are still there, half-rotten, and if he trips on them, he's good and fucked.</p><p>"Goddammit," he hisses, trying with all his strength to push Wintergreen back. He just needs something. A stumble. <em>Anything.</em></p><p>He gets a gunshot instead.</p><p>Something punches through Wintergreen's shoulder, knocking him back a half step. It has to be a powerful gun, because no handgun is going to leave a hole like the one Bruce is looking at, but even as he watches he can see Wintergreen's flesh starting to knit itself back together as he withdraws, eyes up as he scans the boxes, looking for the shooter.</p><p>Behind Wintergreen, a door slams open, and Jason bursts through.</p><p>"Bruce!"</p><p>"Get Slade!" He yells. "I have this!"</p><p>He <em>does not have this.</em></p><p>Jason, apparently using more of his brain than Bruce is right then, ignores his directive, joining the fight from the rear. The pretense of a duel is suddenly abandoned. Even if Bruce had managed to stab Wintergreen, it wouldn't have made a bit of difference. The man's a monster, healing <em>far</em> faster than even Will at his peak. By the time Jason manages to shoot him again, putting a bullet through his side, the hole in his shoulder is gone, nothing but perfect, if slightly pink, flesh.</p><p>The shooter doesn't shoot again. Bruce keeps waiting for it, and Wintergreen obviously is. He's distracted, his eyes darting along the boxes periodically, and it's during one of those that Bruce gets lucky.</p><p>He spears Wintergreen through, skewering him right through the chest.</p><p>He releases the sword, jumping backwards, and Wintergreen lets out a noise of pain, reaching up to grab at the handle.</p><p>Jason shoots him. The gun in his hand seems unfamiliar to Bruce, not one he'd be using right then, but it seems to do its work, and Wintergreen stumbles.</p><p>Without his sword, Bruce uses what he has: his fists. He steps into range and kicks, not Wintergreen, but the sword in his chest. Having seen the sort of healing he's dealing with, he doesn't worry about killing him, but he can't imagine the sort of pain Wintergreen must be going through.</p><p>There's another shot, just as deafening as the first, and Wintergreen is very suddenly not alive at all. Bruce averts his eyes.</p><p>He insists to himself that he needs to be looking at the shooter, but a bigger part of it is that he simply doesn't want to see the mess. He doesn't want to acknowledge that Wintergreen is <em>dead </em>until he absolutely has to.</p><p>On the second floor, the figure of the Arkham Knight stands still. His rifle is still out, resting over the railing, but he's stepped away from it, making clear he's not really a threat to them. Bruce isn't even entirely sure it's intentional, but there's something so <em>strange</em> about having another version of Jason literally watching over him.</p><p>Slade makes a noise and Bruce's attention is suddenly torn away. The Arkham Knight can wait.</p><p>Right then, his husband needs him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Michael / 3:45</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another warning for not-particularly-described gore.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The building that they find themselves in front of is absolutely nothing special. There's nothing to distinguish it from any other building nearby, nothing that indicates what they might find inside. Even so, Duke is confident that they've found the right place, and Ivy forces the door in for them before turning away.</p><p>"There are still people out there," she says, looking off into space. "It is difficult to track them, but I will stand guard just the same."</p><p>Michael suspects that she simply doesn't want to go inside, and he can't blame her. The entranceway is cramped and impossibly dusty, and he wrinkles his nose the moment he steps inside.</p><p>It's not a pleasant place to be, for sure.</p><p>"Direction?" Dick asks, looking to Duke. Duke lifts his sunglasses, squinting up and down, and then gestures down.</p><p>"Hard to see," he admits. "We're so close it's a little bit blinding, honestly. But... pretty sure the answer is down."</p><p>They don't go far from one another as they search for a way down, but they don't have far to search. Once they're out of the entranceway, Michael can hear noise coming from somewhere, and it's just a matter of following it.</p><p>A part of him wishes they had someone along with enhanced senses, but he's the closest they've got.</p><p>There's a staircase down leading to a door that's been kicked off its hinges, and Michael hesitates there. He's ready with his sword, and the obvious choice to go first, but he still hesitates before carefully beginning to creep down the stairs.</p><p>He gets halfway down before someone in the room below says something.</p><p>"Pretty sure that's Michael. Distinctive heartbeat," says a voice that Michael takes a moment to place as Will. Initially he thinks it's Slade, which doesn't make sense, but Will's voice is ever so slightly different.</p><p>Joey brushes past him, popping around the corner, and his face lights up.</p><p><em>Pop,</em> Michael sees him sign, and then Joey's gone, vanishing around the corner.</p><p>"No kids with your group, right? I'd recommend not looking behind the big red thing," Will says as they pile into the basement, surveying the mess.</p><p>A wall's been knocked inward midway down, making an absolute mess of the room. There's a lot of dust everywhere, which <em>should</em> make the overriding color of the room brown, only instead it's <em>red.</em></p><p>There is a lot of blood.</p><p>On the ground is Ra's al Ghul, Damian's counterpart. He's been stabbed, and Michael doesn't have to look further to know that he's passed already. The pool of blood beneath him is already beginning to dry, his eyes closed. Damian sits at his side, legs folded up beneath him as he stands vigil for a man who was, in theory, brought there to kill him.</p><p>Dick and Joey both head straight for Damian.</p><p>There's another noise, a quiet whimpering, and it takes Michael a moment to locate it. On the far side of the big red beast that was with Ra's lies a boy that is very much alive. Michael's first thought is that it's Bart, but after a second he realizes his mistake. Bart's hair <em>is</em> naturally brown like the boy in front of him, meaning it's most likely Thad.</p><p>His leg is also very, <em>very</em> broken. It looks completely healed, without any sort of wound or anything, but it's bent at an angle it absolutely should not be bent at. The fallen speedster's lying on his belly, his arms pulled up under his face to hide as much of it as he can, but it's clear either way that he's been crying.</p><p>"...What the hell happened?" Duke asks. He looks like he's fighting a wave of nausea, and behind the sunglasses Michael can see Duke squeezing his eyes shut periodically.</p><p>"Barry broke his leg," Thad says, frowning as he does. Will lets out a sigh, and expands on Thad's answer in a much more general explanation.</p><p>"Long story short, we rescued Damian from Deathstroke and..." Will pauses his answer, looking down towards the boy on the floor. "Him," he finishes. "Ra's didn't make it. Why are you guys here?"</p><p>"Following the anchor," Michael explains, keeping things brief considering they have at least one enemy in the room. "It isn't at the Monarch, where the others are. They haven't been responding—probably cut off, communications wise."</p><p>"Don't think it's here," Will says, "but you can check around, if you want. We should probably get out of the basement either way."</p><p>He glances somewhat sheepishly towards Ra's mount, and Michael takes a deep breath before approaching it. The creature doesn't make any sort of aggressive move, but it does make a quiet snuffling noise as it leans forward, smelling Michael as he passes by.</p><p>"He's not dangerous," Damian says quietly. "Ra's only came here so he could make sure Goliath was safe."</p><p>"He's not dangerous <em>to us," </em>Will clarifies. "He is <em>very</em> dangerous to our enemies."</p><p>Goliath makes a noise that Michael decides to assume is a happy one, and then shifts to let Michael pass easier.</p><p>Deathstroke, or what's left of him, has been tossed quite literally into a corner. The armor covering his chest has been caved in, and he's actually in <em>two separate pieces.</em> Considering what Will just said, Michael can only assume that Goliath literally tore Deathstroke in half after he killed Ra's, and he makes a note not to get on the beast's bad side.</p><p>He's never strayed away from getting his hands dirty, so he squats down beside the body and starts checking through the armor. He doesn't know exactly what he's looking for, but it's apparent enough that the anchor is a <em>you'll know it when you see it</em> sort of thing. The armor doesn't have pockets, but it does have a lot of pouches, and Michael goes through them all, scowling at some of the tiny trophies he finds. A broken power ring. A half a batarang. He's half expecting to find Kryptonite, only they're lucky: nothing comes out.</p><p>But neither does the anchor.</p><p>"Alright kid," Michael can hear Will saying as he leaves the body behind, heading towards where the other Thad is lying. "You know you're in a shitty position right now. It's in your best interests to help us out, and then maybe we'll fix your leg before sending you back."</p><p>"Why should I care?" The other Thad snaps. "It won't matter anyway. The world's just going to keep getting worse."</p><p>"What's your name?" Will asks, squatting down by his head.</p><p>"Don't have one."</p><p>Michael feels a pang of pain at the idea. He doesn't even have a <em>name?</em></p><p>"What do they call you?" Will asks. Michael gets the impression that this isn't the first time he's had to interrogate someone.</p><p>The other Thad wrinkles his nose, clearly indignant.</p><p>"Why should I tell you?"</p><p>It's Thad who changes things, approaching his doppelganger with an appropriate amount of caution before sitting cross-legged by his head.</p><p>"I know you don't like me, and you're probably right to. We came from the same place, but... well, I got lucky. I'm not sure if you ever got to meet Will, or have anyone who was nice to you. But... Will's my dad. Joey's my brother. There are a lot of people now I'd call my family, and I don't want them hurt. And I just... if you'd help, then I'd be able to keep them all safe."</p><p>Michael doesn't think it's going to work. There's absolutely no reason it should, because the other Thad came to a whole other <em>dimension</em> to kill his counterpart and stake his claim. He's a villain. A bad guy.</p><p>And he cracks like an egg dropped from a rooftop.</p><p>The change seems almost instantaneous. He's no longer furious: he's sulking, sinking against the ground and looking away so he doesn't have to stare at Thad.</p><p>"Fine," he says simply. "What did you even want to know?"</p><p>The obvious answer, of course, is everything, but Michael knows they're on a schedule. They can't just drag things out forever, so he looks to Will, who considers the question for a moment.</p><p>"Who were you working with?"</p><p>"Him," their captive says, nodding towards Goliath and the body he still hides, "his boss, and then a pair that said this world was pretty similar to their own. Batman and Robin, only way messier."</p><p>MIchael's eyes narrow. A Slade, Thad, Bruce, and... who? He's not sure which 'Robin' that is, and he's not sure who 'his boss' is.</p><p>"I don't have a boss," Will points out. "More specific?"</p><p>"Old guy. British. He was the one who recruited me. Did a lot of the organizing to get our group together."</p><p>"...Billy?" Will says, making a noise of alarm. "White hair?"</p><p>"Sounds like him."</p><p>"Fuck," Will curses. "They're at the Monarch?"</p><p>"Yeah. With the other two. They're going to kill whoever shows up there, and then come here to finish the rest of you off."</p><p>Will swears again, a string of expletives so foul that Thad looks downright scandalized.</p><p>"We need to warn them," Barry says. "They're probably not expecting... any of that."</p><p>"Hold on," Michael says quickly. "Which Batman, and which Robin? Details."</p><p>"How should I know? I can't tell them apart. Batman but infected by the Joker, and his sidekick's always in a big suit of armor he never takes off. I've never even heard him speak. For all I know, he's actually a robot."</p><p>A suit of armor...? Will's more horrified by the mention of the joker, but for Michael, it's the armor that draws his attention.</p><p>"What if he's the Arkham Knight? You said they were together, right?"</p><p>The Thad on the floor nods, which all but seals the deal. A Bruce Wayne where he lost himself to the Joker. A Jason where he never managed to <em>escape</em> the Joker.</p><p>"Okay, we <em>really</em> need to warn them," Barry says, sounding legitimately desperate.</p><p>"He's right," Will says. "Barry, go warn them. We'll let you know if we hear anything, alright?"</p><p>Barry nods, and then he's gone, vanishing in a blur as he heads up the stairs. Will turns back to his captive, and then points towards Ra's without even looking.</p><p>"Explain that. The rules. His body stays, if he dies?"</p><p>"How should I know? They didn't explain every little detail. Maybe he asked and they told him. All I know is that if a candidate doesn't kill their counterpart, they get sent back when the anchor breaks."</p><p>"Supports?"</p><p>"Tied to their candidate. Two for one deal."</p><p>"Why didn't everyone just be supports for someone weaker then themselves?" Thad suggests. "They could have only had to kill one person."</p><p>It's a good question, but Michael suspects it's not going to be that easy. He's proven right when the kid on the floor lets out a little snort of annoyance.</p><p>"The strongest heroes on your world were what mattered. Their counterparts had first dibs. They got to come through first, got to set things up, got to fight. So Joe Blow from the middle of fucking nowhere might be a world-ending psychic in another dimension, but it doesn't matter here. If he's just <em>some guy,</em> he's not going to get a chance to come through for days. Better for him to team up with someone stronger than him."</p><p>It makes sense. The people that came through to start were all strong—powerhouses in their own right. But every hour since, the people coming through have gotten weaker and weaker, while also becoming more and more dangerous. They know what to expect when Superman's counterpart comes through. They know the danger.</p><p>But the average person who <em>isn't</em> a danger? Their counterpart could be damn near anything.</p><p>"Guys?"</p><p>Michael turns to find Duke is standing up, a look of ever-increasing horror dawning on his face. His eyes are open, which strikes Michael as a <em>very</em> bad thing, and his stomach sinks.</p><p>"The anchor's gone."</p><p>"What?" Will asks, glancing around the room. "When?"</p><p>"I don't know, I've had my eyes closed because it hurt, and I thought it'd just be on a body or something, but then I peeked and it just <em>wasn't there."</em></p><p>"How can you even tell?" Thad asks, looking around as if he's expecting to see some sort of obvious indication of where the anchor was <em>supposed</em> to be. </p><p>"Duke can see roughly where the anchor is," Dick explains quickly. "That's how we knew to come here... because it <em>was</em> here. And now it isn't?" He seems baffled, but Michael already realizes.</p><p>"...Barry," he says, struggling just to get the word out as the realization sinks in. "Barry left with the anchor."</p><p>"Why—" Will starts, turning <em>that</em> into a curse as well. "He has the anchor and now he's going to a place that's been cut off from communication."</p><p>"Is it possible he doesn't know he has it?" Damian suggests, but he doesn't sound like he believes it.</p><p>Michael turns to the other Thad, who is, to his ever increasing horror, smiling.</p><p>"You knew," he says, and their captive offers a shrug.</p><p>"I suspected. I mean, isn't Barry Allen supposed to be a good guy? And he just <em>broke my leg</em> like it was nothing. Plus, felt like he was holding back. I'm faster than the kid, but Barry <em>should</em> be stronger, right?" He wrinkles his nose. He doesn't appear to be in pain from his injured leg, the damage healed, but he's not going to be walking on it until it gets reset, either."</p><p>Will turns away, hopping onto comms to contact Barbara.</p><p>It's Thad, however, who has a plan.</p><p>"I need to go. I can warn them. I'm the only one who can get there in time to help."</p><p>"Absolutely not," Will says, cutting off his explanation to turn back to Thad. "You are staying right the hell here. You aren't going out there, you're not getting hurt, you're not putting yourself at risk."</p><p>Michael already knows how it's going to end, but he lets it play out in front of him anyway.</p><p>Thad turns, squaring himself with Will as he looks up at his father. He puffs out his chest slightly, sucking in a deep breath as he prepared for the argument to come.</p><p>But he doesn't yell. Instead, he states his case as directly as possible, absolute certainty in his voice when he speaks.</p><p>"If Bruce, Slade, or Jason got hurt because you made me stay behind, even with all the training I've done, I wouldn't ever forgive myself, and neither would you."</p><p>Will stares him down, and Thad meets his gaze with an almost identical expression of focus and intensity.</p><p>Will breaks first, because Thad is, without question, absolutely right.</p><p>"Be safe. Don't fight him directly. The moment you can, come back out and report to us what's going on. We'll be there as soon as we can."</p><p>Thad's gone almost instantly. Michael isn't sure he's ever seen him move so fast.</p><p>"We need to go too," Will says. "We can clean up the mess after. Joey—"</p><p>"I'll stay," Michael interrupts. "Keep an eye on the kid." He nods to the injured speedster, and Will huffs, retrieving zipties from his pocket. He bends down, securing Thad properly, and then nods, not bothering to argue.</p><p>"Rose is upstairs. I think they were going to use her as captive or something. Joey probably wants to check in on her. Everyone else... Outside."</p><p>"Goliath can take us," Damian says, pushing himself to his feet. "He can fly, so we'll get there faster."</p><p>"You fly. I'm running," Will says. "Michael? Keep in touch."</p><p>Michael offers a salute, and he remains where he is as the others leave him behind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Slade / 3:50</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Slade isn't used to his healing failing him.</p><p>His healing has never been as good as Will's, but it's always been reliable before. It's always dragged him kicking and screaming through any sort of damage, through any kind of pain.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>Whatever Billy hit him with, it's fucked up his ability to heal. The wound in his side keeps on bleeding, even with his attempts to stop it. He's pressed his hand against it, applying consistent pressure, but it just won't <em>stop.</em></p><p>It's concerning, to say the least.</p><p>It's also a shame. Bruce with a sword in his hand, fighting like his life depends on it, is an undeniably beautiful sight. His husband is like a <em>force</em> more than a person, the sword like an extension of his arm rather than something he's wielding.</p><p>He wants to watch, but his vision starts to swim midway through the fight. He can't stop himself from sinking, the edges of his vision starting to go black and fuzzy.</p><p>He registers, very dimly, the sound of a gunshot. Then another.</p><p>A slow, very confused blink, and Jason's there, looming over him.</p><p>"Slade, I'm going to need you to stop dying right now."</p><p>"Not dying," he grunts. "Tired."</p><p>Then Bruce is there, and dimly Slade wonders if someone should be fighting the evil Billy that's making their lives hell.</p><p>"This is going to hurt," Bruce says, and then, to Slade's immense (but completely pointless) surprise, it does.</p><p>It hurts like hell.</p><p>Bruce has dumped something <em>in his wound,</em> some kind of antiseptic, and it burns like hell as Bruce pushes him onto his side, letting the injury drain out.</p><p>"Something on the blade," Bruce mutters to himself. "Stopping the wound from healing. Hopefully that should clear it out, or at least some of it." His fingers find the edge of the wound, and he presses it closed, which hurts like hell as <em>well.</em></p><p>Slade would really like to stop hurting, right then.</p><p>"You're going to have to play nursemaid," Slade mumbles into the floor, his entire body throbbing.</p><p>"That's Will's job," Bruce counters. He bends down, and Slade squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ease the headache that's coming on. Too much blood loss.</p><p>Bruce is trying to talk into the comms, but no one seems to be responding. Instead, he focuses on an alternative.</p><p>"Jason, go outside, reestablish communication, and get one of the fliers to bring some blood packs to top Slade up. He's lost too much for my tastes."</p><p>"Got it," Jason says, and then he's off running, retreating into the distance.</p><p>"I think it's healing," Bruce tells him, squinting down at the injury. "I think that helped."</p><p>Something blurs into view behind him, and Bruce twists around. Barry, Slade realizes, his vision slowly becoming less fuzzy as his healing kicks back in. He looks surprised—even confused.</p><p>"Where is everyone?" Barry asks, looking across the stage at something Slade isn't quite well enough to see. He looks absolutely aghast. "You aren't the only one left, Bruce...?"</p><p>"They're all fine," Bruce says quickly, reassuring him. "Jason's gone to get medical supplies. Slade's lost a lot of blood."</p><p>"Oh good," Barry says quickly, although he looks confused. "Did you find them? The Bruce from the dark multiverse?"</p><p>"No," Bruce says, shaking his head. "I don't know. I didn't find him."</p><p>"He might be waiting in the wings, then." Barry's scanning the upper levels from where he stands, but he doesn't comment on what he sees.</p><p>Slade reaches up with one very bloody hand, rubbing at his temples. He definitely is going to need some additional blood, but at least he's not quite as fucked as he was before Bruce thought about washing the wound out. Bruce is applying pressure, which hurts, but it doesn't hurt <em>as</em> bad anymore.</p><p>So at least there's that.</p><p>The seconds tick by, and Slade's surprised when Barry speaks again.</p><p>"You know what, I think I've done enough waiting. It would be an absolute shame if Jason were to come back too late, after all—"</p><p>There's a blur, and Barry goes flying.</p><p>In his place is Thad, looking furious and downright <em>enraged,</em> who has apparently just hit Barry—distracted with whatever he was about to say—hard enough to send him flying.</p><p>Barry hits the ground and blurs upright, face twisted with rage.</p><p>"What was <em>that?!"</em> He yells, and it strikes Slade as somehow <em>wrong.</em></p><p>Barry's not a yeller. He doesn't really <em>yell.</em> Or didn't. And even if the man in front of them isn't <em>his</em> Barry, it's a bit like seeing Bruce swearing up a storm because he got hit.</p><p>"He's evil!" Thad yells. "He has the anchor!"</p><p>Barry seems genuinely taken aback by the claim, but apparently not for the reasons Slade suspects.</p><p>"How did you know <em>that?"</em> He snaps, taking a very un-Barry step forward. "Out with it."</p><p>Thad puts himself between Slade and Barry, even as Bruce tries to push himself upright. Bruce stands, doing much the same as Thad.</p><p>Slade sort of wishes they weren't blocking his view so much.</p><p>"Thad, go call for help," Bruce says. "I'll hold off Barry."</p><p>"Could you at <em>least</em> appreciate how well I've played you?" Barry snaps. "You just accepted me like idiots. None of you even <em>considered</em> that I might be one of your enemies."</p><p>"We considered," Slade mutters, "but we prefer to trust people. United we stand, and all that."</p><p><em>Trust but verify</em> is his usual motto, but there was precious little time for any verifying. Everything's happened so fast, fast enough that Slade doesn't feel particularly stupid for not having had time to get to the bottom of it.</p><p>He doesn't feel stupid, but he does feel <em>irritated.</em></p><p>How <em>dare</em> Barry trick them? How dare he put Slade's family at risk with his bullshit?</p><p>Thad darts to the side, but it's obvious that Barry's faster, because he zips in the way, cutting Thad off. Thad backs up, falling back to where Bruce stands, and Slade makes an effort to get up that doesn't quite make it all the way. Really, he barely gets off the ground before he falls back down on his ass.</p><p>Okay, not his greatest idea.</p><p>"Let me just tell you how this is going to go," Barry says, steepling his fingers in front of him. "I'm going to kill the kid, I'm going to kill Wayne, and then poor Wilson's going to bleed out on the floor. Unfortunately, it seems like one of those pesky candidates got the better of him—"</p><p>There's the bang of a shot being fired, and Barry seems to flicker to the side, head turned up, his face twisted in a <em>very</em> un-Barry-like scowl. Slade twists his head around and finds the Arkham Knight standing in one of the boxes, a rifle pointed at Barry.</p><p>Crap.</p><p>The Knight fires again, and Barry is forced to dodge again.</p><p>"I... think he's on our side," Bruce says quietly. "He's the one who shot Wintergreen."</p><p>Well, Slade has no fucking idea what to make of <em>that. </em>If that's Jason's counterpart, does that mean <em>his</em> Jason made his peace with them? That he's no longer a threat?</p><p>Either way, he's pissing Barry off, and Slade's happy for <em>that. </em>The less in control the speedster is, the fucking better.</p><p>Apparently having decided that his shots aren't going to do anything, the Knight makes a flying leap, landing in a roll when he hits the ground. It makes Slade feel like he's fallen back in time. It's Jason not as he knows him, but Jason as he <em>was.</em> Jason, the wounded boy who became an angry man, his entire being a raw nerve.</p><p>Slade loves Jason so much, and he wants the Jason in front of him to be alright as well.</p><p>"You should be working for <em>me," </em>Barry snaps at the Knight. "Where's your boss?"</p><p>Crap. If the Arkham Knight has a <em>boss... </em>Well, there's only two people it could be, and Slade isn't excited to meet either of them.</p><p>If he had to pick, though? He'd rather face down a version of <em>himself.</em></p><p>The alternative isn't something he wants to think about.</p><p>The Knight doesn't respond, deadly silent, but does take up a defensive position not far from Slade and the others. He seems to be pointedly not looking at Bruce, and Slade can't hold that against him. Really, of all of them, he seems more comfortable with Thad, which seems like a sad state of affairs to Slade.</p><p>"Fine," Barry snaps, apparently having already dismissed the Knight. "You can die with them. I'll be the hero who stopped him after he killed the rest of you."</p><p>The realization dawns on Slade slowly, a fact which he entirely blames on his blood loss. Barry just keeps fucking <em>talking.</em> He should have killed Thad already and been working on killing the rest of them, only he's still goddamn spouting his life story.</p><p>Slade isn't above exploiting that. He makes his most pained face he can manage, sitting up ever so slightly.</p><p>"Why, though?" He snaps, letting every bit of frustration reach his voice. "Why would you do this?"</p><p>Barry, the absolute fucking idiot, takes the bait.</p><p>"Why <em>wouldn't </em>I do this?" Barry asks, gesturing wildly as he does. He's nothing if not <em>expressive,</em> and Slade has every intention of exploiting that. Every minute he monologues, Slade's body works on healing itself. Every minute, the odds that someone else is going to arrive and be able to help them improves. "Everything that's happened has been <em>my</em> plan. The powers that be were just going to wipe your world off the map, but when I slipped between worlds I managed to convince them that this world could be brought to heel. That it could be improved. I recruited my forces. I brought them in. And now here we are, witnessing <em>my</em> victory."</p><p>"Except you've lost!" Thad shouts. "We won. Damian's safe and all your guys are beaten and you're the last one left."</p><p>Slade has to fight from smiling. Damian's safe. The other side's won.</p><p>Barry's laugh helps. It's a malicious, spiteful thing, and the last possible reaction Slade's going to have to it is joy. Instead he scowls, watching Barry's reaction, preparing himself for the worst.</p><p>"You think that's <em>losing? </em>I send out a wave of pawns and watched them get slaughtered, but who cares? That's not even the <em>plan. </em>That's not even the point. Every hour that passes, your situation gets worse. Every tick of the clock and someone new comes through. Sure, you can come together and figure out how to beat Deathstroke, but what about the average person? What happens when John Broome gets replaced, or Van Jensen? They're just <em>people</em>. You have no idea what their counterparts can do, no idea where they are, and no way to stop them from killing their counterpart and securing their place here."</p><p>Bruce's hands ball into fists, and Slade knows what he's going to say before he does.</p><p>"Not if we beat you. Not if we destroy the anchor."</p><p>"And how are you going to do that?" Barry says. "You can't beat me, Wayne."</p><p>"I've beaten Barry before," Bruce says, stance shifting, ready to fight. He still has his sword, but Slade doesn't like his odds. He's beaten Barry, but largely through trickery. Beating him in a fair fight seems impossible.</p><p>With others, though?</p><p>There's a chance.</p><p>"Please!" Barry yells, as dramatic as it's possible to be. "You still haven't figured it out? You might be able to beat Barry, but I'm <em>not</em> Barry. No version of Barry Allen could have pulled this plan off so perfectly."</p><p>And then, with all the flourish of what's supposed to be a big reveal, he taps the ring on his finger and his suit shifts in color, flipping from red with yellow accents to yellow with red accent.</p><p>"I'm not Barry Allen," he announces. "I'm <em>Eobard Thawne, the Reverse-Flash!"</em></p><p>The reveal doesn't hit Slade as hard as the realization that he knows fucking <em>exactly</em> how to win, and he puts his plan into motion as fast as he can, before Bruce can open his mouth and say something else. </p><p>"Who?"</p><p>Slade knows exactly who the Reverse-Flash is. He considered one of the <em>bigger</em> threats, the ones that Earth-B's Justice League thought might be a real threat to them.</p><p>He's also someone that Will's met. He's heard stories.</p><p>And from those stories he knows that Eobard Thawne is <em>nothing</em> if not excruciatingly self-important, convinced of his relative value in the universe. That he is, in every way, significant.</p><p>And asking who he is is <em>already</em> enough to make him snap. Eobard's eye seems to twitch as he turns towards Slade with a snarl.</p><p>"The <em>Reverse-Flash!" </em>He yells. "Flash's greatest enemy? I know this backwater doesn't even have a proper Flash anymore, but you have enough people here from other worlds."</p><p>"No one mentioned a Reverse-Flash," Slade insists, which only serves to drive the other man even more over the edge. He's nearly foaming at the mouth with fury as he clenches his fist, hunching over slightly as his eyes widen.</p><p>There's something wrong with his eyes. There's no sclera, nothing but an inky black pit with a tiny pinprick of red light to indicate where he's looking.</p><p>Slade wonders how much of Eobard Thawne is even human anymore. He doesn't <em>feel </em>like it. He feels like something that once was, and is now just going through the motions.</p><p>"Fine," Thawne snaps. "I'll make sure you remember me."</p><p>He moves, and as fast as Slade can blink, and suddenly he's four feet to the side, his hand shoved into Thad's chest. He doesn't seem quite solid, his entire body flickering ever so slightly as he vibrates. His grin looks deranged, paying Thad no real attention as he stares towards Slade.</p><p>"You see this? All I have to do is twitch my fingers and your kids heart gets ripped out of his chest, Wilson. Can you imagine how painful that would be? Can you imagine how much it would hurt?"</p><p>Thawne can't see Thad's face, but Slade can. He can see the look of absolute certainty and focus on Thad's face.</p><p>And he can see when Thad, braver than he should have to be, winks at him.</p><p>"You wouldn't!" Bruce says, and Eobard lets out an almost hysterical laugh and does.</p><p>Or he tries, anyway. His hand pulls out, and Thad is still standing there, completely unharmed. Eobard's face twists with confusion, and he strikes, attempting to punch Thad in the face.</p><p>His fist goes right through. Standing perfectly still, Thad's entire body seems to be flickering ever so slightly as he vibrates in place.</p><p>He's used Eobard's own trick against him.</p><p>A lot of things happen all at once.</p><p>The Arkham Knight charges forward, firing off two quick shots. Bruce, apparently ignoring the very real possibility of him getting shot, decides it's a good time to rush Eobard as well. Thad, probably a bit more prepared than the others, darts forward, dealing out what Slade can only assume are body blows.</p><p>He doesn't know. He's still sitting on his ass, only half capable of seeing what's going on, and certainly not fucking capable of following what's going on. He gets the impression of a lot of people clashing, and then Bruce gets tossed, Thad pulls back, and Eobard is suddenly twenty feet away.</p><p>He can't even tell if someone's <em>knocked</em> Eobard back, or if he's just decided to pull back because he's outmatched.</p><p>He gets a lot <em>more</em> outmatched when something crashes through the ceiling in a blur of blue and red. Eobard is just fast enough to get out of the way of Clark, but only by a hair as he skids backwards, putting more distance between them as his face twists with fury.</p><p><em>"More</em> of you?"</p><p>Clark holds out a box of medical supplies, not taking his eyes off Eobard as he beckons Bruce forward. There's a moment of hesitation, and then Bruce darts forward, taking it from Clark and turning away, giving Slade his attention and leaving Eobard to Clark. Thad and the Arkham Knight, on the other hand, stay where they are.</p><p>"You think this is over?" Eobard snaps. "You've already lost. None of you can outrun me. None of you can <em>catch</em> me. I don't have to beat you, I just have to not let myself be beaten. You'll spend days trying to find where I've gone, and it won't even matter, because by the time you get there I'll already be gone. And every minute, more and more people will be arriving. How long do you think before there's more candidates than original, do you think? A few days? Maybe a week? And every minute you'll know that it was your fault."</p><p>Clark lunges forward, and Eobard is gone. He's right, after all: Clark is fast, but he's not as fast as Barry, who Eobard seems to be at least as fast as.</p><p>Clark looks absolutely furious when he reaches nothing but air, furiously looking around as if expecting to find Eobard in the corner. When he realizes that Eobard is good and gone, nowhere in sight, he looks to the sky, barely visible through the hole in the Monarch's roof, and yells.</p><p>"FUCK!"</p><p>His frustration is palpable, and he's hardly alone in it. Eobard is right: they have no way to catch him. Maybe with Khalid's magic and Thad's speed they'll be able to create a trap, but that will take hours <em>at least.</em> People will just keep dying.</p><p>And it's clear that Clark blames himself for not catching Eobard. What if he'd gone all out from the start, rather than focusing on delivering the supplies that Bruce is now setting up beside Slade? What if he hadn't waited?</p><p>Bruce looks like he's trying very hard not to think about any of those things.</p><p>"Jason's outside," Clark says, running his fingers </p><p>hrough his hair and looking a moment from literally tearing his hair out. "How the hell are we going to find him? I can't leave the boys alone, we only pushed them back, we didn't stop them—"</p><p>"It's okay," Thad says, interrupting him, and Clark half-turns, looking intensely frustrated while simultaneously looking like he's trying <em>not</em> to look frustrated in Thad's direction.</p><p>"I'm not sure it's going to be," Clark says. "We're running very low on options."</p><p>"No, it'll be okay," Thad says, flashing Clark a massive smile before reaching into one of the pouches on his suit and producing a swirling orb the size of a cue-ball, seemingly made out of space itself.</p><p>
  <em>The anchor.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Thad / 4:10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clark's jaw drops.</p><p>"What— <em>How?"</em></p><p>"When you came in, I jumped forward and checked his pockets. He was distracted by everything going on, and I don't think he realized that even if I couldn't <em>move</em> as fast as him, I could still <em>see him moving. </em>He checked the pocket with the anchor a few times."</p><p>Thad's trying not to sound <em>too</em> proud of himself, but he figures a little bit is okay. It was his plan, after all. There hadn't been time to really talk to anyone else about it. He hadn't been able to check in, which meant trusting his instincts.</p><p>Not exactly an easy thing to do, even at the best of times.</p><p>Certainly not when the <em>fate of the world</em> was hanging in the balance.</p><p>Thad forces himself to stay still when Clark shoots forward, literally scooping him up and spinning him around, his face lit up with sheer joy.</p><p>"Thad, you genius!"</p><p>Bruce is too focused on patching Slade together, while Slade's too focused on shooing Bruce away, insisting he's fine when he's most definitely not.</p><p>The orb in Thad's hand feels <em>weird, </em>and every second he's touching it he becomes more convinced that something like that should never have existed. Looking at it gives him a headache, because while his initial impression is <em>this is made out of space,</em> it isn't. It's more like the <em>absence</em> of space. A hole in... reality itself.</p><p>Unfathomably powerful, and yet so easily broken.</p><p>"Do I break it?" Thad asks, and Clark holds out his hand to accept it.</p><p>"I'll do it," he says quickly. "We're not sure exactly what breaking it will do, and I'd rather not have your dad after me because breaking it tossed you into a wall."</p><p>"Hold on," Slade interrupts. He's on his feet, which Thad's pretty sure he <em>shouldn't</em> be, but Bruce is hovering just behind him so he figures it's not that bad. "I need to do something before we break it."</p><p>Clark looks exasperated, glancing around the room (mostly to Bruce, if Thad's being honest) for help.</p><p>"We don't have time," he says. "Every minute we hold onto it, people out there are still fighting, and there's a very real chance that Eobard could check his pocket, realize what he's missing, and come back for it. We have to hurry."</p><p>"We have enough time for this," Slade insists.</p><p>Thad has absolutely no idea what Slade's going to do until he does it. Even as Slade approaches the Arkham Knight, his mind's running a mile a minute, trying to figure out what's going to happen. He must need to ask the Arkham Knight something, get clarity about... whatever. Thad doesn't know: he wasn't here, doesn't know what's even going on with the Arkham Knight at all. He recognizes the armor, and from context can guess it must be Jason inside, but beyond that? Nothing.</p><p>He is <em>not</em> prepared for Slade to pull the Knight into a hug, and apparently neither is the Knight himself. He goes stiff, not returning the hug, but he doesn't pull away, either.</p><p>"I'm sorry that all this happened," Slade says, his voice quiet enough that it wouldn't be heard in any other situation, only everyone <em>else</em> has gone quiet with him, the room dead silent as they all listen. "I wish I had the time to get to know you. To get to see the person you are, and the person you could be. But we can't put people at risk trying to figure out a solution that might not exist. You have to go back."</p><p>Thad feels like he's witnessing something very personal. He almost wants to look somewhere else, except he can't tear his eyes away.</p><p>"There's another Slade out there who'll get that chance. Your world seems to have walked the same path we did, and that opportunity is still there. You just have to look for him. Tell him I said so. I don't know what happened with you and Jason, but I know you helped us anyway, and I know you're a good person."</p><p>He squeezes the Arkham Knight a little bit tighter, and after a moment, the Knight seems to hesitantly raise his arms, returning the hug with all the grace of a newborn foal.</p><p>"You'll be okay," Slade finishes.</p><p>A moment passes, and then Bruce steps forward, wrapping his arms around Slade <em>and</em> the Arkham Knight. Thad thinks for a moment to his own counterpart. Could he get there in time? What would he say to him? But they don't really have time, and Thad doesn't know what to say anyway.</p><p>"Thad," Bruce calls, beckoning him over, and Thad approaches hesitantly, unsure of what Bruce wants even if Bruce is offering him a friendly enough smile. "Family hug. That means you too."</p><p>Thad has never been happier to be part of a hug. He joins in, not quite able to wrap his arms around everyone, but managing a close enough attempt anyway.</p><p>"Every Slade I've met is really nice," Thad says, trying to be reassuring. "I'm sure yours will be to."</p><p>When the Knight speaks, his voice seems almost rusty, as if he hasn't spoken in years. He's hoarse, but he's clearly trying anyway.</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>Thad expects him to say more, but he doesn't. Instead, he just tries to hope that what they're saying is true: that this Jason will be okay in the end, no matter what happens.</p><p>Bruce turns to Clark and nods, and Clark hesitates for a moment before nodding back. He holds the anchor up in his hand, and then squeezes it, crushing it in his grip.</p><p>Despite Clark's worries, there's no explosion. The anchor simply breaks like a glass that's been dropped on the ground, shattering into pieces and then, like it was never there, dissipates.</p><p>And the Arkham Knight goes with it. He fades away, still wrapped in the hug, and when he's finally gone, Thad lets himself cry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Bruce</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All Bruce wants is to know that everyone's alright, but Slade—injured and <em>in front of him</em>—has to take priority. Even if he insists he's doing better, the moment the Arkham Knight is gone Bruce makes him sit right back down to finish medical treatment.</p><p>"Please don't insert the line like that," Will calls, and Bruce's head jerks around to spot a small group coming in the door. Or at least he <em>thinks</em> it's a small group, but a second glance confirms that he's mistaken. Will's there, as is Damian, but what he thought was more people is actually Goliath, Ra's hulking mount.</p><p>Ra's isn't with them.</p><p>"You're late," complains Slade as Will seamlessly bends down, taking over Slade's medical care from Bruce. Probably for the best, because Bruce can't first aid his way out of a paper bag.</p><p>Will, on the other hand, is an actual nurse, a fact that he never stops reminding them.</p><p>Damian looks distressed, keeping close to Goliath as he observes the body of Wintergreen on the floor.</p><p>"Damian? What about everyone else?"</p><p>Thad goes pale, suddenly going rigid.</p><p>"I didn't tell you," he mumbles. "We stopped the... my candidate, and Slade's candidate, but Ra's..."</p><p>Thad doesn't finish, but what he's saying is clear enough. Not everyone made it, and Ra's isn't one of them.</p><p>"He intended for it to happen," Damian says quietly. One hand reaches up, tangling into Goliath's fur, and the beast—Bruce doesn't have any idea what Goliath actually <em>is</em>—lets out a gentle <em>whumf, </em>bending down to nudge against Damian. Goliath's clearly attached, and Bruce wonders for a moment if that's because he recognizes Damian as being so similar to the Damian he was bonded to. "He came here so that Goliath could stay when he died, because he thought his world was going to fade."</p><p>"What about everyone else?" Bruce asks. "We were cut off from comms."</p><p>"Jason's outside, relaying information to everyone," Will says without looking up. "Seems like all the candidates and supports have vanished, but any bodies haven't." Will nods towards Wintergreen, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge. "He was about to come back in when Clark... well."</p><p>"Guilty," Clark says. "The moment I heard the anchor was here I knew that getting rid of it would be the most important thing. There's still more to do, but we were... struggling to deal with Luthor and his versions of the boys. With the anchor broken, they should be alright."</p><p>Slade yelp as Will does <em>something</em> to him, and then a moment later he's on his feet, being helped up by Will.</p><p>"Will's hand's broken," Slade says, and Bruce spins, looking Will up and down.</p><p>It <em>is. </em>He's been favoring one hand and Bruce didn't even <em>notice.</em></p><p>"It's not broken," Will grunts, looking scandalized by Slade having outed him. "The bone's bruised. It'll heal."</p><p>"Which means it was <em>more</em> broken before you got here," Slade points out, throwing Will even farther under the bus, probably because of whatever he did that made him yelp. "What did you do?"</p><p>"He fought Slade's candidate for me," Damian says. Will goes a bit pink, looking away, and Bruce raises an eyebrow.</p><p>Will, however, doesn't feel the need to elaborate.</p><p>With everyone on their feet, things need doing. Jason isn't outside, having apparently headed over to rendezvous with Joey and Michael. Bruce tells Tanya the location of Wintergreen's body, not wanting it to be just left there, and then the entire group heads towards where Joey and Michael should be. Even with the anchor broken, those candidates who <em>did</em> succeed should still be around, and the risk level is still higher than Bruce would like.</p><p>"We found Jason's candidate, but there wasn't a Bruce," Slade muses, glancing to Will. "Unless he was on your end and you forgot to mention?"</p><p>Will's face goes all pinched, which tells Bruce he <em>did</em> forget to mention something.</p><p>"Wasn't Bruce," he says. "But they had Rose there. This world's Rose. We left her with Joey while Michael guarded the other Thad."</p><p>Slade nearly stops mid-step, but catches himself and keep walking before Goliath, walking just behind them, can bump into them. There's no discussion about what'll happen to Goliath: it's simply assumed by Bruce, and apparently everyone else, that Goliath will be staying. Damian's obviously torn up by Ra's death, and the last thing anyone wants is to spit on Ra's literal dying wish.</p><p>Bruce falls into step beside Slade, reaching out to rub his back, voice dropping even though it won't likely matter. Almost everyone around them has some kind of super-hearing, but it's the <em>sentiment</em> that matters.</p><p>"Are you going to be alright seeing her?"</p><p>"I'll just ignore her," Slade mutters, which means <em>absolutely not.</em></p><p>Bruce is vaguely worried about Will as well, but the trip isn't that long. The ground around the building's been heavily damaged, old roots ripped to the surface by what Bruce can only assume was Ivy, even if she's nowhere to be seen right then. He can't imagine it being anyone else.</p><p>Michael's waiting out front, talking with Jason, and when they spot the rest of the group arriving Jason heads straight for them, pulling Bruce and Slade into a hug. Bruce returns it, patting Jason on the back, and lets out a small sigh.</p><p>"Not over yet," Jason says, interpreting the sigh exactly how Bruce meant it. "But the worst's past. How are we handling things?"</p><p>"Tanya's coordinating," Clark explains. "We're going to have to deal with calls as they come in, and check arrival points from her database as we do. People who can fly or cross large distances are going to be ideal, in this case. Thad?"</p><p>"I'll help," Thad insists. "But... maybe not alone. We don't know what we're dealing with."</p><p>"Having you work with Wally and Bart might be best," Slade says. "Everyone else?"</p><p>"I'll handle things in this area," Jason says. "Can you and your boys go farther afield? I know it's asking a lot—"</p><p>"No, that's fine," Clark says. "You're just one person, and the boys work well in pairs."</p><p>"I'll coordinate," Bruce says. "But... I want to check on those in the safehouse."</p><p>"Barbara says they're fine, if that helps," Jason says.</p><p>"It doesn't."</p><p>"I'm going to head back to the house," Will says. "I'll check in with Barbara and see what I can get involved with from there. Slade?"</p><p>Slade considers before offering a shrug.</p><p>"I'll go with Will. Clark, can you drop Bruce off at the safe-house?"</p><p>"I... actually don't think you ever said where they were," Clark goes pink, apparently genuinely embarrassed at his 'oversight'.</p><p>"You weren't supposed to know," Will points out, already getting to leave. Bruce realizes he's probably trying to make sure that neither he nor Slade have to interact with Rose. "Alfred picked the safe-house from our options, so that if one of us were captured we wouldn't be able to put them in danger."</p><p>"Oh. Sensible."</p><p>Damian ends up taking Goliath back to the house with Will and Slade dangling, while Jason and Michael head upstairs to meet with Joey. Clark takes Bruce to the safe-house, with Barbara coordinating everyone else to make sure they end up where they need to be.</p><p>Clark drops Bruce off on the fire escape, telling Bruce to give everyone his best, and then he's gone, off to save someone who probably needs saving more than Martha and Jonathan Kent need to hear from their son directly.</p><p>Yen answers the door, a sensible choice, and only lets Bruce in once he's absolutely sure everything is alright. Everyone he expects to find there is there, arranged around the (probably too small) pair of rooms. Bruce heads straight for the twins, scooping Terry and Matt up and waking them from what seems to be a well-deserved nap.</p><p>"No trouble?" He asks the room, and Martha shakes her head right as Jonathan Kent gets a little pinched look that tells Bruce there <em>was</em> trouble, and they just didn't think to report it. "What?"</p><p>"We had... <em>someone </em>arrive," Thomas mutters, looking none too pleased. "We didn't exactly have time to tell you about what was happening, and by the time we could, we didn't want to alarm you."</p><p>"What are you about to say that's going to <em>alarm</em> me?" Bruce asks, squinting at Thomas as Jade rubs against his ankle.</p><p>The adults in the room exchange looks, each apparently not wanting to be the one to say it. It's Alfred who seems to draw the short straw, sighing and offering his (very brief) explanation.</p><p>"We had a very alarming looking alien dressed all in red arrive, accompanied by... what I believe was the counterpart to Dexter. He certainly <em>looked</em> similar enough, although he was perpetually producing some sort of red liquid that looked deeply unpleasant."</p><p>"He was wearing a cat version of the alien's uniform," Yen adds helpfully.</p><p>"Either way," Alfred cuts in quickly before Bruce can appropriately panic about things, "he didn't seem particularly interested in us. Mostly he talked to the cat, and then the cat came in and seemed to... interact with Dexter a bit, and then he went back up to the man and red and I was under the impression that were standing guard."</p><p>"You were <em>under guard</em> by a strange alien and <em>didn't think to inform us?"</em></p><p>"You were busy. And I will not having you take that tone with me, Master Bruce. Everything worked out in the end. The two of them faded in time, and no harm was done."</p><p>Bruce doesn't quite agree, but he lets the matter rest. There's no winning arguing against Alfred, and he's really just relieved that everyone's there, safe and sound. That he has his boys in his arms again, unharmed.</p><p>As long as his family is okay, he knows that <em>he'll</em> be okay.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Bruce</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Even with the anchor broken, there's still more to do. The candidates and their supports that were still threats have been sent home, but as the League rallies, that feels more like the beginning. For one, those candidates and supports who were killed don't vanish with the anchor. It's a blessing and a curse, because while it means that someone has to deal with the body, it also makes it a lot easier for them to keep track of things.</p><p>Because the unfortunate reality is that not everyone won. There are, by Bruce's count, at <em>least</em> twenty people who were killed by their respective candidates, and that's an extremely conservative estimate. It takes a huge amount of time and manpower to track everyone down, and some are simply <em>missing,</em> making the task that much harder.</p><p>The effect seems <em>largely</em> localized to Earth and its occupants, but when Hal reports in they learn that the arrival of his own candidate—a giant monster made of fear itself, if Bruce is understanding right—caused serious losses to both the Corps and the planet he was near. He says he'll be gone for a while, dealing with the fallout, and then ends the transmission, his mood grim.</p><p>On Earth, there's no real attempt at keeping it a secret. No one thinks it's possible, so no one bothers, with the first announcements about it coming out only a few hours after the anchor is broken while the League furiously zips around the planet, putting out fires both literal and metaphorical. The panic is understandable, but for once there's no obvious person to blame. The sentiment, for the most part, is simply thankful that things weren't worse.</p><p>Different countries are affected in different ways. Markovia loses comparatively few people, but the fight between Brion and his own counterpart levels a mountain range. A significant portion of North Korea is lost to the sea after a Tsunami appears out of nowhere. For the most part, the damage is localized, even if it is significant. Half of Kenya suddenly finds itself disconnected from the wider world, cut off from power and the internet. An explosion rocks Delhi. Fire sweeps over a section of the Congo. Santa Prisca, while largely spared from actual widespread devastation, loses the majority of its government. </p><p>Nowhere is as devastated as Themyscira.</p><p>An island populated almost entirely by some of the strongest people on the planet, completely isolated from the sensors that allowed Tanya to monitor the situation, almost every Amazon was forced to deal with a candidate after her head. As Diana tells it, the only reason the island wasn't entirely lost as that <em>most</em> of the candidates were arriving from different dimensions, and had no intention of working together.</p><p>But even so, the losses are devastating. Diana loses her mother, and almost half her people. There are few captives taken, and few survivors from the candidates, even among those who've killed their counterparts.</p><p>The only consolation is that Bane's family, the only humans on the island, are spared, ignored by the attackers and lacking a candidate.</p><p>Atlantis, unique but not as divinely powered as Themysica, does alright. There are losses, but the losses are not nearly as staggering.</p><p>Closer to home, the rest of the League does much better. J'onn's telepathy keeps Steve Trevor and himself safe, aware of the problem almost immediately. Dinah and Oliver survive, but Oliver's bow arm is broken in the fight. Roy, Wally, and Bart make it out intact, no worse for the wear.</p><p>Gotham, for once, is spared any major damage.</p><p>But the wider support structure of their family, on the other hand, are not.</p><p>Stephanie's father is killed, just one of many who die at Blackgate. Even with the vast chasm between them, she mourns just the same.</p><p>Era, while killed, recovers in a few days, energized by a mix of sun and sun-lamps, and he's counted among the injured, alongside Will and Slade, both of whom recover far quicker. </p><p>When everyone's well enough, they hold a funeral for those they've lost. Ra's is buried beside his grandfather. Wintergreen, lacking any other family, is buried beside the Wayne's. He is, Bruce decides, probably the closet thing to a birth family that Slade has.</p><p>They sit down and talk with Cassandra, and in the end it's decided she'll stay. She has no one else to go, and if nothing else, she's bonded to them by the shared loss. Bruce is wary about how well she'll adjust, but he knows the family will do their best to make her feel welcome.

</p>
<p>Even then, there's still more to deal with.</p><p>The dead need to be tended to, even those that they nothing positive to say about. In the end, as much as Bruce feels reluctant to do so, he buys a section of a new cemetery in Gotham, and buries them all there. Dick (a talon, and thus technically dead to start), Slade (torn in half, if Will is to be believed, in a fit of rage), Michael (<em>exceptionally</em> dead), and every other candidate or dead supporter from Gotham and the surrounding area are buried together, under small headstones. Even if they came with the worst of intentions, it's impossible for Bruce to ignore the fact that they were still <em>people.</em></p><p>Someone, somewhere, is mourning them. The funeral they hold is brief, and Bruce can't help but feel that Jason's acting odd, but when Bruce asks, Jason simply says its nothing. In a few days, the mood seems to pass, and things are back to normal for him.</p><p>Rose is returned to Blackgate. She says little, and refuses to discuss what happened. Bruce doesn't learn anything about it until months later, when Joey, who's taken up visiting her again as a hobby, tells him.</p><p><em>They wanted her to join them, </em>he explains. He doesn't need to explain <em>who.</em></p><p>It feels like a cruel coincidence that the Rose they found was a Rose who would never have tolerated working hand in hand with any version of Slade.</p><p>Rose, though, is not the only one they have to deal with. There are dozens of candidates who succeeded, and even if none of them are particularly threatening, they still can't be ignored.</p><p>Steve's the one who takes over handling them, at least in the US, and heads up the legal response. In the end, things are dealt with on a case by case basis. Some make the argument that they had to do what they did as self defense, while others don't even bother with the pretense.</p><p>Either way, the most important thing is to ensure they're treated as their own people and can't slip into the place of the originals. The fact that one of those left behind is a version of Stephanie's father means that, for Bruce, that's on the forefront.</p><p>There are, however, good things as well. While Bruce has <em>absolutely no idea</em> how Damian managed to convince Slade to allow him, one day Bruce leaves for a meeting with everything as normal, and returns to find what amounts to a glorified dog-house has been built on Damian's balcony for Goliath. There's absolutely no question of doing anything other than letting Goliath stay, and while the great beast (Bruce has no idea what it actually <em>is, </em>and neither does anyone else) clearly misses Ra's, he loves Damian just as much in short order.</p><p>Khalid is a strange case.</p><p>Almost the moment the anchor vanishes, Khalid seems to stop responding. He floats well above the manor, sitting cross-legged as if meditating. He's non-responsive but physically fine, and attempts to move him fail. They have to bring in Zatanna (who had absolutely no trouble with anything) to consult, who offers a shrug and suggests that he might be <em>communing</em> with some sort of higher power.</p><p>"Assuming you believe in one," Thomas mumbles, earning himself a sharp look from Joey.</p><p>"Oh, I do," Z suggests. "I mean, I've met some."</p><p>In the end, they leave Khalid under observation, waiting for something to happen.</p><p>It's almost a full week later that he does, his eyes suddenly opening before he sinks down to the earth like a stone slowly sinking through water. When he reaches the earth, there's something fundamentally different about him, and the fact that he reaches up, removing the helmet as the family piles out of the house seals the deal.</p><p>"Your magic's gone?" Will asks. It seems to Bruce like a guess, and yet an entirely valid one. It strikes Bruce as <em>true</em> even before Khalid offers a nod of confirmation a moment later.</p><p>"Faded. I... reached out to the other Doctor Fates in other worlds, and we observed what was happening. I had to use what remained of the magic Nabu gave me to maintain at least part of the shield he had, but..."</p><p>"Are we safe?" It's Thad who asks, leaning forward slightly. "Reverse-Flash said that they were going to wipe us off the map."</p><p>"You're safe," Khalid says, and there's a loud and very audible sigh of relief from damn near anyone. Khalid glances around, looking slightly mystified, and then continues. "A lot happened and honestly it'd take me all day to explain everything but what really matters is that the universe has... ah, fundamentally changed."</p><p>Slade squints. He's not the only one.</p><p>"I'm going to need a bit more of an elaboration then <em>that."</em></p><p>"It's technical," Khalid says. "To be as simple as possible... all the worlds that we know were created flawed. There was an inherent issue with them, which made them more... chaotic. It effectively meant that any time the world became stable, it would proceed to naturally head towards a crisis again, entirely on its own. But that's been... corrected, now. The world won't do that anymore, so if it's peaceful, it'll stay so without a cosmic force <em>making</em> things go bad."</p><p>"That's good," Bruce says, glancing around. He doesn't exactly feel certain about that, but at least it's something. "Right?"</p><p>"It's good," Khalid confirms. "This world, and a few others that were under attack, fought back hard enough to split the enemies focus, and it let them—"</p><p>"Let me guess," Will says dryly. "Universe B?"</p><p>Khalid's smile is all the confirmation they need.</p><p>"And others."</p><p>"So think that's it?" Thomas asks. "We never beat Eobard. He could still be out there."</p><p>"He went back to Universe B," Khalid clarifies. "That was the first thing I did, actually. Figure out where he was, and then... push him along to get him out."</p><p>There's only one detail that hasn't been mentioned, and Bruce glances to Slade, who returns the glance before being the one to ask the question.</p><p>"What about the dark worlds?"</p><p>He doesn't say who specifically, but it's clear to everyone that he's thinking specifically of Jason. They sent him off with their love and hopes, but there was never any guarantee he would be safe. Even if things had been fixed, his world still would have faded, a broken creation from the start.</p><p>"It's complicated," Khalid says, and Bruce's heart sinks immediately. "Some of the worlds are too far gone. In a world where everything's destroyed and the last packets of humanity are struggling just to keep living... Well, leaving it as is won't help things. Instead, those whose worlds can't be saved are being rescued and brought to safety. They'll find new homes, either on existing worlds that have now been repaired, or on entirely new ones."</p><p>Bruce allows himself relief, and Slade leans against him, nudging against his shoulder with a smile.</p><p>"Safe," Slade says quietly, and Bruce lets himself smile.</p><p>He hopes, even if he's far away, that Jason will find happiness with the chance he's been given.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Bruce</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There is one other thing that still needs to be handled.</p><p>Three weeks after the arrival of the candidates, the Wayne-Wilson family makes a trip to Themyscira to see the damage. It's extensive, but Diana seems hopeful despite the losses.</p><p>"The majority of the Amazonians who came through are willing to... well, join us. Things are obviously going to be tense, but there's a level of understanding there. They did what they had to, unfortunately."</p><p>"The majority, but not all of them," Jason points out, and Diana frowns.</p><p>"Some have come from... darker worlds. We hope that in time they'll come to understand that things are different here."</p><p>As much as it is good to see Diana, that isn't the only reason they're there. It's not even the <em>main</em> reason.</p><p>The main reason they're there, arriving via private plane, is their <em>next</em> destination: Santa Prisca.</p><p>Of all the places in the world affected by the candidates arrival, Santa Prisca is unique. While there were multiple candidates on Santa Prisca, the damage done was almost non-existent to the general public... and <em>extremely</em> damaging to the government.</p><p>Really, it would probably be more accurate to say that the government was utterly obliterated.</p><p>While it had taken a few days to work out exactly what happened, eventually the details had become clear. Someone—whether acting on their own or on the behalf of the government—had put out a call, hiring several high-level mercenaries who'd be willing to take on Bane. The plan was clear enough, even before those who had remained had been questioned: everyoen would be paid <em>some</em> for each rebel they killed, but the highest bounty was on Bane himself. It was to be a concerted effort, with Bane's strength well known enough, and those who'd been hired not being anywhere <em>near</em> the level of power Bruce had expected.</p><p>"They weren't offering that much," Slade had explained on the flight over. "Frankly, the power level of the mercenary marketplace has diminished significantly. Most of the heavy hitters have retired, and people aren't stepping up to take their place the way they used to. Good guys are a bit too organized, and the League's a major deterrent, even for those operating outside the US. A few have basically been bought and paid for by dictators like Matthew Bland. Not many are floating around taking jobs from anyone who'll ask at this point."</p><p>"They were strong enough to fuck everything up," Will points out, and he's right.</p><p>The majority of those who'd been hired wound up dead in the minutes after their candidate-selves had arrived. Those that lived ended up in the crossfire of a massive battle between the newly arrived candidates. The idea of <em>teaming up</em> apparently didn't occur to any of them, and the battle had ripped through Santa Prisca's capitol building.</p><p>With the president and almost his entire cabinet dead, along with huge chunks of those below him, it had fallen, somewhat ironically, to Bane to resolve the situation. In the hours after their arrival, it had fallen to Bane and his men to sweep into the capitol, ring the capitol building, and subdue those inside.</p><p>Bruce suspects that people would have been convinced that Bane was behind the whole thing if the entire crisis hadn't been so widespread... and if Bane hadn't <em>personally</em> waded in and rescued the only two cabinet members to survive.</p><p>It isn't the resolution Bruce wanted to Santa Prisca's civil war, but compared to how catastrophic things <em>could</em> have been, Bruce supposes it's probably one of the better outcomes. There's a new government coming in, loaded up with those who have <em>strong opinions</em> about the previous government, and the military, who'd mostly backed the old one, has largely stepped back, unwilling to get into a fight with everything that's happening.</p><p>They know when they've lost, Bruce supposes.</p><p>Officially, Bruce (and everyone else) are going on behalf of the League to recognize the end of Diana's work. She was instrumental in keeping Santa Prisca from boiling over into an all out war in the streets, and it feels halfhearted to not have her be there.</p><p>That is, however, only part of the reason they're there.</p><p>The private plane from Themyscira to Santa Prisca (which is a long and grueling flight) isn't just the Wayne-Wilsons: Maria, Paloma, Jasón and Rosa are all on board as well, returning to Santa Prisca for the first time since they were spirited away to safety. Unharmed but shaken, Maria's obviously eager to return home, and it's clear to everyone how much Paloma misses her father.</p><p>Reuniting their family is the sort of thing Bruce couldn't be happier to do. There's something strangely humbling about seeing someone like Bane bend down to wrap his arms around his whole family, pulling them in close.</p><p>But those aren't the <em>only</em> reasons they've come to Santa Prisca. </p><p>The last reason is by far the least important, and yet to Bruce, it's hard to deny how fundamentally <em>important</em> it is.</p><p>The whole family needs a vacation, and Bruce is going to make sure they get it.</p><p>With everything happening around the world, tourism is <em>far</em> from its peak, and it's easy for Bruce to rent out a resort and give them all some privacy. He even reminds himself that, overall, it's probably a good contribution to Santa Prisca: if the Wayne-Wilsons are willing to visit, then that means its safe to go.</p><p>But <em>mostly,</em> it's just to relax. They all deserve it. They've all been through so much.</p><p>They deserve a vacation on a far off beach where they don't have to worry about anything else.</p><p>It's a chance for Cass to get to know the family more. It's a chance for Thad and Damian to have a chance to just be <em>kids. </em>Even Thomas, usually high-strung, is all too happy to recline on a beach and have someone bring him drinks.</p><p>And for Bruce, it's a chance to do whatever he wants.</p><p>He goes diving with Jason and Joey one day, swimming out in the ocean while the others play a game of <em>extremely</em> competetive volleyball. They eat shaved ice topped with unique Santa Priscan flavors. They have a bonfire on the beach, and when its burnt down to almost nothing, lie back and watch the stars swirl overhead.</p><p>For once in their lives, things are calm.</p><p>Its days into the trip, when he's thumbing through a book on the balcony overlooking the beach, when the truth hits him. Will's reading something or other, and Slade's standing, watching as Khalid and Cass roam through the tide pools together. Bruce has no idea where anyone else is, but he also doesn't care: he trusts that no one will go too far, and that everyone will be safe. He doesn't have to worry. They've been able to do what they want, well away from the press, and there's no concern about their behavior being <em>analyzed.</em></p><p>And Bruce wants that all of the time.</p><p>"I never thanked you for saving Damian," Bruce says, closing his own book an setting it aside. "I should have."</p><p>Will glances up from his book, and then, apparently seeing something on Bruce's face, closes it completely, letting it rest in his lap.</p><p>"You don't have to thank me for that. Not like I'd sit back and let him get hurt. He's family."</p><p>There's a strange sensation in Bruce's chest, a tighness he's struggling to put words to. Things feel... good. Normal. <em>Happy.</em></p><p>He wants that so much.</p><p>"I want to go public."</p><p>Will's reaction is stunned. Slade jerks around, whatever he was watching momenarily forgotten.</p><p>"Huh?"</p><p>"I mean it," Bruce says, feeling emboldened with every word he says. "I know you said that you'd be okay with it never being public—with people just thinking you were extended family or something—but I don't think I am. I've spent... I've been keeping secrets my whole life, and not having to hide them anymore feels... it feels amazing. Keeping this from the public feels like a step back."</p><p>He leans forward, reaching out to take Will's hand and giving it a small squeeze before withdrawing to give Will his space. Will's expression is mixed, and Bruce's stomach does a flip, suddenly uncertain. Just because he wants it doesn't mean Will does.</p><p>"This would backfire, you realize," Will says. "Not <em>might.</em> <em>Will.</em> People won't take it nicely. They'll think you're some kind of... I don't know, pervert with a Slade fetish. People aren't going to just accept this."</p><p>"Some people didn't accept Slade and I, either. Some people are always going to be angry that other people are happy, but that doesn't <em>change</em> things. What's the worst that can happen?"</p><p>Will opens his mouth to answer, and Bruce holds up his hand, silencing him for the moment.</p><p>"I mean it. If we went public, if the whole world knew, what would happen?"</p><p>Will is silent for a moment, and then glances to Slade.</p><p>Bruce hasn't talked to Slade yet about any of this. He knows he should have, and yet the feeling that now was the right time has bubbled up just the same.</p><p>"We're the darlings of Gotham," Slade points out. "We're also members of the Justice League. Between all that... realistically, Bruce is right. There's nothing they <em>can</em> do. We're not breaking any laws. We're just doing something they find strange. And it's not like we're the only ones—there's other people like us who don't have the option of going public. If we do, it could change things for them."</p><p>Bruce would like to agree. He'd like to talk about how it could be a legitimate push towards acceptance and destigmatization.</p><p>But for him, it's about something much simpler.</p><p>It's about being able to kiss Will over dinner. It's about being able to hold his han when they're out and about. But even more than just Will himself: it's about being able to call Joey and Thad and Era <em>family</em> without having to add an explanation on every time.</p><p>He wants all of that.</p><p>Every part of his life has changed since Jason came back into his life, and all those changes have been for the better. His family's gotten bigger. Everyone is in a much better place then they were before, be that emotionally or physically. They're also closer knit, more willing to talk, and more willing to seek help in one another.</p><p>Bruce reaches out again, taking Will's hand in his own. This time, though, he doesn't let go. Instead, he looks at Will's face and waits for a response.</p><p>"I want that," Will says after a moment. "I would... I would like that. But I don't want it if it means it's going to hurt you or the kids."</p><p>"We're not going to rush into it," Slade says. He takes a seat beside Will, leaning against him until Will responds and wraps an arm around Slade's back. "We have time. We'll have to talk to everyone. Lots of details to work out... like last names."</p><p>It's suddenly Bruce's turn to be caught off guard, and he squints at Slade, wondering just what he's up to. Slade, of course, smirks at him, promising trouble Bruce has yet to even glimpse on the horizon.</p><p>"I was thinking, when Joey and Jason finally seal the deal, that maybe everyone in the family might want <em>one</em> last name, rather than everyone having their own twist on it."</p><p>Bruce doesn't even attempt to contain his surprise.</p><p>"That's a bit... far off, wouldn't you say?" Bruce asks. "They're not even engaged."</p><p>Slade smiles.</p><p>Will smiles too.</p><p>Bruce, of course, squints intensely at the pair of them.</p><p>"Don't tell anyone," Slade says, nudging Bruce's foot with his own. "Joey asked me and Will for some help making sure he'd have some time alone with Jason."</p><p><em>"When?"</em> And how the hell didn't he notice?</p><p>"Oh, tonight."</p><p>"So that whole fireworks—"</p><p>"Yep."</p><p>Bruce sags back in his seat. How did <em>he not notice?</em></p><p>"It'll be a long engagement," Will points out. "I had some concerns of my own, but Joey thought this would be the perfect place to ask, considering their last trip to Santa Prisca."</p><p>"I'm not upset," Bruce says. "Just— I wish I'd brought a camera."</p><p>"You wish you'd brought a <em>photographer," </em>Will counters, "which is why we got asked to coordinate with the staff, because they know you'll go all out and that isn't what they want."</p><p>Okay. Well, they're not <em>wrong.</em> He'd have tried to... well, add things, but he understands that probably isn't what anyone wants but him.</p><p>But would it kill them to get a good photo? Maybe an engagement photo shoot after the fact... </p><p>"No," Will interupts. "Whatever you're thinking, no. And we were talking about something important."</p><p>"Names," Bruce agrees. "But—"</p><p>"Wayne," Slade says.</p><p>"Wayne," Will agrees.</p><p>Bruce splutters, struggling to come up with an appropriate response. It seems wrong to just be <em>Wayne, </em>not when...</p><p>Well, the more he thinks about it, the harder a time he's having coming up with an argument.</p><p>"Neither Will nor I have any real attachment to <em>Wilson.</em> His Rose would be the only thing, and there's a decent chance she's Rose Park now, so it's not like that'd matter either. On the other hand, you've got a whole legacy you're attached to. Parents you'd like to honor. So Wayne makes sense."</p><p>"It's also about fifty times more famous than Wilson will ever be," Will agrees. "And William Wayne doesn't sound bad at all."</p><p>Bruce is still trying to come up with an answer when Slade leans down, kissing him lightly. It drags him from his thoughts, and when Will leans down to do the same, Bruce allows himself to smile up at the pair of them.</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>"Love you too," Slade says to him, leaning over to kiss Will in turn. "You too."</p><p>Will goes red, but after a moment he <em>does</em> answer it, looking as flustered as a highschooler.</p><p>"Love the both of you too."</p><p>Nothin about it is going to be quick or easy, but even so, Bruce is looking forward to it just the same. He wants the whole world to see how much they love Will. He wants the whole family to be one united whole, rather than pretending they're split in two.</p><p>Bruce doesn't think he's ever been so happy as he is right then.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And so we reach the end - but also not the end.</p><p>Bury Your Sons was originally intended to be a short 50k word fic, a one-and-done style longfic. Instead, it expanded, thanks in no small part to the massive support of the readers. We've got an active discord, tons of people commenting, and more support than I could have imagined.</p><p>MTBAF has now passed 1.4 million words, which is an absolutely staggering amount. I've talked about DSY as being an 'ending', but I don't want anyone to panic and think I'm closing the door here.</p><p>So far, MTBAF has been the story of Bruce and his family. There have been some slight departures (the Teen Titans, Khalid, etc), but for the most part the focus has still been on them. However, there's other stories I want to write in the universe (and, in one case, multiverse), and that'll mean departing from the family as they stand. These parts will also probably be more experimental - there are some shorter ones that aren't quite oneshots and aren't quite longfics, either.</p><p>At the moment I'm not sure if I'll post the next 'part' as part of this series or a new one, but either way my plan, as follows, is to finish my rarepair exchange fic, and then do the followup to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813328/chapters/60014455">Break the Egg</a>, which I still haven't gotten around to. After that?</p><p>Well, probably time to find out what Bruce-B was up to.</p><p>Again, I want to thank everyone so much for being so supportive, because I definitely wouldn't be here without all the readers, kudos, and comments I've been getting along the way!</p>
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